iLoathe You
by Clichesbullet
Summary: A series of stand alone Seddie oneshots that originated either from missing moments of the series, quotes or episode facts. No real chronology.
1. iHated Every Second

**i****Loathe You (A Lot) **

**A/N: **_I have around seven more of these written already. I'm starting with this one and then proceeding to type the rest. This was done as a gift for a friend and as part of a Challenge I took a while ago._

_Anyway, all one shots are based in episode facts and their possible consequences. It's not like I've watched all of iCarly episodes, so you can always suggest me something and I can see whether I already wrote about it or not._

_**iHated Every Second**_

**Summary: **_Carly never changes the subject before she's satisfied; even when there's a little distraction such as duct tape gluing her to a chair. Set right after the end of iThink They Kissed. _

"Oh c'mon, Freddie, it looks exactly like him, just look at that little curve over there! How can you _not_ see it?"

"No, Carly, no matter how hard I try; I can't see Ryan Secreast's face on the shapeless stain of paint on your ceiling."

"Well, of course you can't; you're not imagining him with the Statue of Liberty's crown on his head like I am, just try again! Look, right above that smaller stain that's his left eye…Ugh! If only I could point my finger!" As anyone would easily point out, being stuck to a chair that had fallen on the floor for over two hours was not exactly the most thrilling of experiences and Carly, Freddie and Sam soon became bored and frustrated after having to stare at the Shay's apartment roof for what felt like five lifetimes.

"Carly, there's no way that's Ryan Seacrest, it's just one big purple stain…"

"It's him!" Carly yelled at him in a high pitched tone. "We are all experiencing a miraculous appearance of Ryan Seacrest sacred image and you're not going to ruin the moment with your scientist's skepticism!" Freddie rolled his eyes at her:

"You're hallucinating, Carly, we've been trapped in this chair for too long and…" His face changed all of a sudden. "Why do I smell ribs?"

"Ribs? Why would you smell…? _SAM!" _Carly yelled at something she saw behind Freddie, making him turn his head for answers. Leaning on the kitchen counter, still covered by tons of silver tape (though most of it looked as if it had been ripped off) and holding on to a huge mountain of ribs for dear life, Sam Pucket stared absently at the ceiling.

"It looks more like Gibby in a Seagull outfit to me, Shay…" She said bobbing her head to the side. "A _shirtless_ seagull. Yup, definitely Gibby."

They all stood there quietly, analyzing the ceiling once more for a minute or so before reality sunk in and Carly yelled:

"Why are you _free_?" she tried shaking herself out of the duct tape to no success. "How come you did this?"

"I got hungry." Sam shrugged licking her fingers. "And bored too. So I just…you know." She lifted her wrist showing the shredded leftovers of silver in there.

"You could have done this all along?" Freddie shouted making Sam chuckle:

"Your voice goes pitchy when you're angry!" She laughed a little more, lost in thoughts. "Oh, puberty, you wacky little lady!" She took a sip from the straw of her juice box. Freddie ignored her remark.

"I was so overwhelmed by Ryan's appearance, I didn't even notice Sam's setting herself free but she's right next to you, Freddie, how come you didn't feel anything?" Freddie sighed.

"My body went completely numb about one hour ago." He then turned to Sam. "_How_ did you do it?"

"Mamma has super strength when she's hungry."

"She does, she really does." Carly said sounding a little proud. "Once, her mother was late to pick us up at the movies, I watched Sam break a pop corn machine with her own fists." She made a pause and her gaze became lost as if she was browsing some good memories. "I really miss being allowed to go to that mall…"

"Or anywhere that's around it within a 6 kilometers distance." Sam sighed nostalgically.

"Sam…" Freddie started in his most controlled tone. "Aren't you forgetting something?" He tried gesturing towards him and Carly but it turned out to be quite a hard thing to do when you're trapped _and_ numb. Sam stared at the two of them lying on the floor with her eyebrows raised, in complete silence 'till her expression lit up with realization:

"Barbecue Sauce!" She ran to the fridge.

"GET US OUT!" Freddie and Carly cried at her.

"Alright, alright." She said closing the fridge door sheepishly and shrugging. "No need to get all vicious." She let go of one of the ribs for a second but then, as if she had just thought of something, she said to no one in particular:"I call the ribs!" and then licked each rib all over. Freddie looked as if he was about to barf:

"Gross."

"Gross would be if I had licked your face, Nub."

"Couldn't agree more, she-devil."

"I'm sorry to interrupt your bantering guys but _my butt is getting all tingly!"_ Both Sam and Freddie snapped out of their usual bantering induced trance and stared at Carly a little baffled. "Yes, _I said it_. It wasn't my finest hour but it's really uncomfortable and I had to take desperate manners!" Sam finally placed the ribs on the counter, licked her fingers and walked over to Carly, purposely stepping on Freddie on the process. Three times.

"I swear to you, Puckett, once I'm free…" He started.

"You're still trapped so you better think twice before you finish this line…"

"I'll think so many bad stuff about you in complete silence, your _aura_ will feel offended." Sam rolled her eyes as she held Carly's wrists and pulled them apart from each other at ease before doing the same to her ankles.

"There you go, Shay. Now pull the rest of the duct tape from around your body by lifting it up and watch the hair or else you're in for a new haircut." She held Freddie's wrists:

"Your hands are oily." He pointed out in disgust.

"Good and old lard mixed with mamma's DNA."

"Oh, just kill me."

"Don't tempt me, Benson." She said, her eyes narrowing viciously at him. "You free your own ankles, dork face." She stood up again and moved straight back to the place where the ribs laid; trying to eat them as fast as possible, probably afraid the others might try for a piece even though she had already marked her territory.

As Freddie struggled to free his ankles from the duct tape, Carly rolled to the side, duct tape all over her face and hair yelling in desperation:

"Sam! Sam! Sam! I'm in for a new haircut!" She shook her arms up and down, slapping Freddie's face accidentally a thousand times; he tried rolling to the opposite side but they were still too involved in the tape for this to work. Sam snickered but then proceeded to help Carly by stepping on Freddie's arm and rolling Carly away from him with some serious strength. Carly finally sat down, free at last breathing unevenly.

"It's all over my hair." She pointed out sadly. On her side, Freddie still rocked from side to side – ankles in the air – the duct tape reducing his ability to move his arms freely.

"Nah, don't worry. Just heat some water and stand in the direction of the vapor. It won't hurt as much as you think." She took a look at Freddie and rolled her eyes. "Do I have to do _everything_ around here?" She set his ankles free with an abrupt move.

Carly stood up and grabbed a pan to heat the water.

"Hey, missy, get away from Princess Puckett's ribs." Sam pointed out as her friend got a little closer to the counter. Carly ignored her:

"Are you sure it won't hurt a lot?" Sam shrugged while watching Freddie take out the remains of the tape glued to his skin as if enjoying the agony in his face whenever he pulled it a little more and winced. Carly considered that she probably _was_ indeed enjoying it.

"Yeah, it won't hurt." She pouted. "It's a little hard to pull it all out without losing any hair but it's much easier taking it away from your head than from your ass. There's nothing worse than having your buttocks glued to each other by duct tape." Carly turned around slowly, assimilating the information:

"How do you even _know_ these things?" Sam sat on the floor, snapped a rib from her shorts' pocket (her famous emergency supply) and took a bite before answering with her mouth full:

"Believe me, you don't want to know." That simple statement sent Carly a shiver down her spine. The whole situation with the prisoners invading their house using the giant Trojan Jeans of Doom (as Freddie had named it), followed by them being glued to a chair and Spencer surprise appearance followed by his hurried departure had distracted her from just how hurt she was but now that Sam was keeping things from her again, she felt a stingy sense of betrayal.

"There are two types of people in the world, Freddork." Sam was telling Freddie absently on the floor as she enjoyed watching him suffer. "The ones that rip band-aids at once, facing the pain with all their guts like real men…and wimps who like to take it very slowly because they think that tiny little pains are less hurtful than one, big, fast pain."

"I'm not a wimp!" He sounded offended. "I just don't want to get my arm depilated." Sam laughed:

"Aww, Freddie…" She mocked him. "Don't worry! I'm sure you can't get depilated if you don't have body hair…" Carly was sure their mockery would have continued if she hadn't turned at once and said abruptly:

"I wanna know."

"What?" They both raised their heads to face her at once, not understanding what she was talking about. They had been doing this sync thing for a while now.

"I want to know how you know about the buttocks thing." Sam exchanged a confused look with Freddie, who said:

"Er, Carly, why would _anyone_ want to know that?"

"Because! You guys promised you'd tell me anything, that we'd have no more secrets! So I want to know! I want to know about Sam's sticky buttocks!"

"My buttocks are not sticky!"

"I bet they are." Freddie mocked almost in reflex. Sam licked the rib she was holding twice and then rubbed it against his face. "Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! You're disgusting!"

_"Answer me!" _By now, Carly was definitely throwing a tantrum. "We said no more secrets!" Sam sighed:

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you."

"Yeah, Carly, when Sam doesn't tell us stuff like that it's usually 'cause she doesn't want to send us to the Witness Protection Program."

"Listen to Benson, Carly, this is one of those rare cases in which his usual nerdiness is actually useful." Carly reasoned for a second and then groaned, giving up:

"Alright, I suppose you guys are right." She stared at her own sneakers for a second and then snapped. " Then answer my other question." Both Sam and Freddie looked alarmed (or confused, Carly couldn't really tell the difference in her mental state):

"What other question?" Freddie asked hesitantly.

"You know…the _other_ question. The one I made earlier." She moved her shoulders awkwardly as she felt the hot vapor coming up from the boiling water. "Did you guys _like_ it?" They exchanged another glance and Carly wished they'd stop doing that all the time.

"Just answer me, twerps!" She clapped her hands, trying to act bossy and scary like her father did when talking to his subordinates. Sam took a deep breath and threw her rib's leftovers on the trashcan with a basketball move and clicked her tongue while staring at Freddie:

"I _hated_ every second." She highlighted the word "hate" for some reason Carly couldn't exactly understand, she concluded it was probably to annoy him. "All _seven_ of them." Freddie narrowed his eyes at her:

"_Eight._" He corrected her with a winning smile, like he was insulting her. "We kissed for eight seconds, Puckett."

"Sam!" Carly yelled as Sam buffed and gritted her teeth, ready to rip one (or two) of Freddie's eyes out and he retreated protecting his vital organs.

"You're lucky Carly's here, Benson. _Very_ lucky." She whispered between her gritted teeth.

"Well, what about you, Freddie?" Carly interrupted them.

"Me?" He stared at the last gigantic piece of duct tape in his forearm and started pulling it out as carefully as possible. "It would've been better if it had been with you, of course." He said with a last smile at her.

At this, Sam took hold of his arm and pulled the rest of duct tape out all at once with one strong move.

"FACE THE PAIN ALREADY, BENSON!" She yelled at him. "Carly will never love you!" Freddie yelled in pain and crawled in fetal position holding his forearm and cussing very loud all sorts of Spanish bad words.

"Oh my God, is that Freddie's skin on the duct tape?" Carly narrowed her eyes to take a better look. Sam just threw it away shrugging:

"Well, I'm sure it's not hair."

"You…evil….twisted…." Freddie tried to come up with full sentences while rocking on the floor, eyes closed and tears of pain rolling down his cheeks. "Blond headed…devil…"

"Yeah, yeah…Whatever, Fudge Face." She said standing up and stepping over him on her way out of the kitchen. Carly glared at her reprovingly. "What?" she asked. "You don't love him. He better face the facts now then later. You are Freddie's very own giant silver duct tape. With super glue."

Carly beamed but as she was reminded of Sam's metaphor she couldn't help but to wonder who exactly was the one trying to break into things gently and slowly, trying to protect themselves from getting hurt in the process.

She shook all these thoughts off of her head thinking that the only reason she was seeing things this way was because she was still shocked they had kissed. Still, she knew how Sam acted violent around guys she liked…

"Puckett, I swear…" Freddie's voice came out tiny and low from his place on the floor. "If I start to over bleed because of you…"

"Then we will know life has followed its natural course." Sam interrupted him with a flamboyant bow. Freddie opened his mouth to protest but as soon as he managed to open his eyes, he lost track of his thoughts:

"Hm, guys?"

"Yeah?" The girls answered.

"Sam's right; I can totally see Gibby dressed as a seagull."

**A/N:** _Well, that was the first one shot. Some of them will be more serious, other more fluffy and stuff like that but as they are all related to facts happened in the episode, I can't stretch much their personalities at the moment of the said episode so you won't get much romance. I mean, you will, but not in a exaggerated way. :} Review, please._


	2. iAm Just Bacon

**iLoathe You (A lot)**

**A/N: **_Thanks for all of the reviews (I really wasn't expecting such good feedback, please keep me posted and bring me suggestions as well)!_

_Also, I'd like to remind you that, as the one-shots fit spaces left between episodes, I can't make Freddie "snap out" of his feelings for Carly thus I can't help but to mention his "Creddieness" sometimes (even to an exhaustion point like in this chapter) so, sorry for anything. _

**iAm Just Bacon **

**Summary: **_Freddie has some trouble dealing with the sad reality of being just friends with Carly after he had the opportunity to be with her as more than that. Surprisingly enough, it's Sam Puckett, of all people, who does her best to cheer him up 'cause hey, maybe, being bacon isn't that bad after all. Set somewhere between "iSaved Your Life" and "iWas a Pageant Girl". _

"Ok now, Freddie, let me just recheck one more time this arm right here…" Mrs. Benson said grabbing his arm while browsing through her purse with her other hand. "Now, if only I could find my portable x-ray machine…"

"Mom! I took the cast off _three weeks_ ago!" He tried to set himself free from his mother but her grasp was like a bald eagle's claw on him. "Oh man! I hate this!"

"Well, Fredward!" Mrs. Benson interjected sounding offended. "Do you think I enjoy doing this? X-rays are very dangerous things; especially to boys your age." She approached her face from his and whispered in a worried tone. "It's not good for your…, you know," She pointed her finger somewhere under them. "_boys parts_."

"Oh…My…."With a sudden gain of strength (which, he suspected, had most likely been induced by the emotional shock), he let go of his mom hold on him and ran for his life.

"Fredward Karl Benson! You shouldn't even be running yet! I know the doctor said it was ok for you to walk again but I told you not to try anything risky 'till Christmas!" He dodged all of her attempts to grab him again.

"You think _typing_ is risky, mom!" He managed to get past her and hurried to the door.

"Well, you never know when a brisker movement will break a finger, do you? Now get back here, young man, and put your arm on the counter for mommy to look!" Freddie reached the door and opened it hurriedly, his mom still in his bedroom. He got out as soon as he could just to bump straight against the person standing outside his door who, unfortunately for him, was Samantha Puckett.

"Hey, watch where you going, Nub!" She pushed him and he fell face first on the ground. "Or you might get hurt."

"Oh! He exclaimed with sarcasm, rubbing his nose. "Thanks for the advice, Sam! We don't want me to get hurt or anything, right?" Sam snickered at him:

""_We" _is a strong word, Benson, but yes, you're welcome…" But before she could get to the end of her sentence, a desperate scream came from the Benson's living room:

"Oh Gosh! Freddie! I told you not to run! Are you hurt?" Mrs. Benson was approaching them. "Hold the door open for me, Samantha!" Sam glanced briefly at the boy lying on the floor next to her before smiling at Mrs. Benson:

"Hey there, Marissa." She bobbed her head politely and beamed, pulling the Benson's apartment door with a final wave and a smile: "Now, _Ciao_!" She closed the door at Freddie's mother face with a final blow and held on to the doorknob with all her strength. She then turned to Freddie and stretched her free hand to him: "Give me your keys!"

"You want to _lock_ my mother?" He asked in absolute stun.

"Fredward! Get back home right this minute! You know you're not allowed out 'till I finish your early afternoon checkup!" His expression changed immediately to a frown and he snapped his keys from his jeans' pocket whispering:

"Thanks, Sam." It really gives you an idea of how sad a guy's life is when facing a choice between his mother and Sam Puckett, he still chooses the later, Freddie considered for a second. Sam whispered back:

"I don't think she can see us through the peephole. You might want to fake a little struggle, Benson." She still held on very strongly to the doorknob and Freddie knew it required a whole lot of strength to beat his mom's "motherly instinct".

"Oh." His eyebrows rose with realization. "I get it." He started kicking his legs in the air and yelling in a whinny voice as he carved his nails on the wooden door. "Mommy, help me! Sam is…Argh! Help, help!" He tried not to laugh; his mom's attempts were becoming more and more aggressive from the other side. "No, Sam, not my _keys_!" Sam raised her eyebrows critically, pouting her lips with judgment:

"You can do better than that." She kicked him once on each knee causing him to yell in an acute voice:

"Oh, Puckett, you're so awful!"

"Now _this_ I can believe in." She said with a smile, finally turning the key on the locker with a loud click.

"Samantha Puckett!" Mrs. Benson yelled and knocked on the door fiercely. "Set me free right this minute! You are fully aware that you're not allowed in the same environment as Freddie unless accompanied by a responsible adult or at least _three_ trained paramedics!" Sam rolled her eyes and helped Freddie up.

"So, what you say? We have about 40 minutes before she manages to find her own keys among the contents of that gigantic dark hole she calls a purse?"

"Something around that, I guess." He said cleaning the dirt of his pants and shrugging.

"Any chance she might call Lewbert?"

"She will." He said. "But he's been ignoring her ever since their…"fling"" Freddie shivered a bit at this. "…ended, you know? Ignoring her more than he ignores everyone else, I mean."

"Good." She replied, turning to Carly's door and pressing the doorbell.

"Carly's not home."

"You were watching her through the peephole again, weirdo?" Sam scowled.

"No!" He made a pause and thought about it. "No! Anyway, I sent her a text this morning about the rehearsal today and she answered me something about going to an Origami convention with Spencer 'cause he always dreamed of owning a giant Tsuru as a pet and..." Sam looked at him overwhelmed. "Yeah, I don't get it either." He shrugged.

"Great." She said leaning against the door with her arms crossed. "Now I'm hungry and stuck here with you for God knows how long…"She went silent for a second. "Do you have any food on you, Nub?" Freddie took a deep breath, trying to keep himself calm and sane which was pretty hard with his mom still yelling behind his apartment's door:

"Well, Carly said we could wait for her inside, the spare key is under the…" He stopped once he realized the door was already completely open. "But _of course_ you already broke into our friend's house using nothing but a hairpin and saliva." He said with no surprise at all while following her inside the Shay's loft; ignoring his mom's loud protests as he closed the door behind him.

"Is it just me or is your mom acting especially loony today?" Sam said from the fridge while Freddie threw himself at the couch.

"Nah, she's been like this ever since the taco truck incident." Freddie answered sulky staring at the ceiling. "As if my life wasn't already bad enough without her acting even _more_ protective than she did before."

"I don't get her at all." Sam's face emerged from the fridge holding a cherry soda can and a bowl full of meatballs. Freddie pointed out that there was a post-it in it that said in giant letters "Spencer's, not Sam's. Stay away from these meatballs!" but she just waved him off. "Oh if I were to pay attention at every sign in the world… I'd have to wait _hours_ on the traffic from school to my house everyday!" She grabbed a fork from the drawer and sat by the counter:

"Anyway, as I was saying. I totally don't get your mom. If it were my son getting hit by a taco truck…" She put a whole meatball on her mouth at once. "I'd be more than happy to have a life supply of Mexican food delivered at my place…" Freddie stared at her:

"Please promise me you won't have children. Like… _ever._" She just shrugged him off:

"Whatever. But don't worry…Even if I do, the odds are they won't survive more than a year or two…" Freddie shook his head from side to side, astonished. "But…You were whining something about your life sucking just a few minutes ago?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "What? Can't I be worried?" He kept the same look on his face. "Look, I just like to listen about your agony." She sighed with a smile. "It sooths me." Freddie rolled his eyes:

"Whatever." He stared down at his body, analyzing his recently fixed bones and stood quiet listening to the – not so charming – sound of Sam's chewing. "It's just that…I don't know." He looked at the Shay's door to make sure no one was coming. "Of all things to remain from the "hero effect", did it really have to be the only one that really, _really_ annoyed me?" Sam seemed to ponder about his words while staring at his sad expression:

"Well, had it been any other way, it wouldn't be your life." He glared at her, she grinned, and he gave her a faint smile before sighing in defeat:

"You're probably right. There isn't even a reason to try to argue about that." He sunk deeper in the sofa cushions. "I'm just regretting things, you know? That's just it."

"No, you're not regretting _things_." She pointed her fork at him, a meatball on its tip while she swung it from side to side. "You're regretting breaking up with Carly."

"If you already knew, then why did you ask?"

"I _didn't_ ask.. You were the one who went on and on like I was Oprah Winfrey or something." She took a bite from the meatball.

"I don't know why I even talk to you anymore." He rubbed his index finger and his thumb against the bridge of his nose. "You're no help at all." Sam went very quiet after this, she even stopped chewing. He thought she was choking (no way she'd ever stop eating) and looked at her just to find her staring at him:

"What? Did my dorkiness ruin the taste of your food again?"

"No." She said, standing up and walking towards him. He protected his face in reflex "Oh, relax, daffodil!" She burst and sat on the couch's arm, still far from Freddie. "Now, you want to know the problem with you?" Freddie smirked at her:

"No, Puckett, I'm not falling for that one again! The last time you asked me this, you had a Power Point presentation ready! And it was entitled "Part 1 out of 10"!

"Well, I'm a perfectionist!" She reasoned. "Look, Freddie, seriously now; why did you break up with Carly?"

"Because of you!" He was a little overwhelmed. "Oh wow, _there's_ something I'd thought I'd never say." Sam slapped him in the head and he proceeded:

"You told me I was just foreign bacon or something like that, remember? I broke up with her so she'd be able to, you know, separate gratitude from real feelings and all that but…"

"You _were_ just foreign bacon."

"Yeah…" He stared at the wall. "I sort of had hopes she'd realize something after we got together once but…Now I'm back where I was before. Worse, if possible."

"Nah. You're just looking at it from the wrong perspective." Sam said sipping from her soda. "You had no chance to begin with, you saved her life, she was grateful…you had a chance, she came back to her senses and now you are here. You should see this like a lucky chance you had. If you hadn't saved her, she'd never look at you in the first place. Praise the taco truck for helping you, accept it's all over now and then... move on."

"Sorry, was this supposed to cheer me up?"

"No!" Sam answered. "It's supposed to open your eyes!" She snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Would you really feel happier right now if you were with Carly even though you _knew _she didn't like you?" Freddie went quiet. She hit him on the head again:

"Ouch! What was that for?"

"Because this sort of thing is exactly what's wrong with you and it makes me really angry!" She burst. "Don't you have any self-respect?"

"According to you, I shouldn't have any _self-steam_ let alone self respect…"

"Yeah, but that's only my opinion! According to _you_, you don't care about what I think!"

"Yes, well, that was until you told me I was just bacon and led me to break up with Carly!"

"That's it; I'm going to punch you." Sam stood up at once and Freddie held his knees while trying to hide under the cushions. "I now see I was way off limits by offending such an _amazing_ thing like bacon when comparing it to _you_." Freddie was confused once he didn't feel Sam's fist against his body. He heard her sigh:

"Look, Benson, when you broke up with Carly, I thought what you did was very noble."

"Uh?" He dared to show his face to her, just so he could look at her expression as she complimented him. "What did you just say?" Sam didn't look as if she was enjoying that conversation but she went on:

"Look, I hate you, ok? With every little cell of my body and all that; you are a nub, and pathetic and stuff like that…But you're also very good with doing the right thing and stuff. You're always being nice to Carly 'cause you like her and even to me…'cause you like Carly." They both chuckled. "I wasn't impressed when you jumped to protect her. Honestly, I thought you were just going for a snack…That's how _I_ do it every now and then but…When you saved her life, even though she was grateful and stuff, I wasn't surprised. I expected that from you, I never doubted what you were capable of for her. To you, making that choice would be easy. Because, let's face it, your life is pathetic, it's not like you'd be losing a lot, right?"

Freddie didn't answer this last comment of hers so she just went on:

"But when you gave her up, even though you had her, that was when I first thought of you as brave." His eyes widened a little; half hoping someone would come in and witness Samantha Puckett complimenting him (even though she did sound reluctant the whole time). "It was the first time I saw you act like a real man."

"Wow, Sam, I…"

"Hey, hey, Dorkazoid, I'm not complimenting you or anything here. I didn't call you a "man", I just said you _acted_ like one. A girl scout who did the same thing would be acting like a man as well…"

"Alright, Sam, alright." He cut her off before the mockery got any worse. "I understand what you mean." He stood up and walked towards the fridge to get a soda for him. "But ever since this Carly thing, I've been thinking about how every relationship I get in seems to turn out to be some sort of charity work." Sam opened her mouth to say something but he raised a hand in the air to shut her up. "Please refrain from making a smart comment, _please_."

"Alright, alright. No need to get all…_touchy_." She shrugged and followed him to the kitchen. "You were saying?"

"Oh, you know, first it was Valerie who asked me out as an excuse to steal my tech skills, then there was that girl _I_ didn't like but _she_ liked me, even though _Gibby _liked her…When it comes to me, I never get a normal two-sided relationship. Even _you_ kissed me out of guilt." Sam raised an eyebrow:

"What do you mean by "_even_" me?" Freddie became suddenly too focused on his soda can. Sam threw a meatball at him. "_We_ have a two-sided relationship. Doesn't that count?"

"I'm not sure mutual hate accounts as a two-sided relationship." He answered her, wiping some tomato sauce from his forehead as he did so.

"I'm sure it does." Sam swallowed another meatball. "Or else, my parents wouldn't have been married in the first place." She laughed for a while then her face became very grim. "Scratch that. Mutual hate does not count as relationship." Freddie and she drank from their sodas in silence avoiding each other's eyes.

Freddie sat on the other side of the kitchen counter and sighed:

"I went camping with Spencer once, remember that?" She nodded while poking the bowl with her fork. "Because my mom never lets me out of the house for a long time, let alone in the woods, I had never seen a beaver before, you know? I thought they were fascinating creatures."

"And I thought I couldn't be more bored by this conversation…" She started.

"Just_ listen_ to me!" He said. "It was obvious I couldn't see the beavers any more, that I'd never be able to raise beavers in my place or anything but when I got home, I ordered a whole lot of books and videos about their life and stuff like that."

"Geek." Freddie ignored her:

"I can't have Carly, right? She doesn't like me but I liked holding on to that little piece of hope that, if she gave me a chance, I'd make it worthy…"

"I really don't see a metaphor shaping up here, Benson."

"Yeah…I don't either." He sighed. "I guess I just wish there was something I could get that would make me more comfortable about the idea of never having Carly." He looked at Sam. "I know what you're thinking so, just so you know; I already _have_ a life, so I don't need to get one." She pouted her lips and made a face at him before muttering:

"Killjoy." But she stared at him and her frown became a smile. "So, what you're saying is that you wish you could have a documentary collection on Carly habits? I know a few things about how to get a restraining order and I'm pretty sure you're on your way for one, Benson." He scowled at her and she stretched and laughed, standing up:

"The beaver and the bacon." Sam said to no one in particular. "It's good it didn't work out, it sounds awful even for a cartoon title." She then smiled at Freddie:

"There's a whole lot of people who like Bacon." Freddie looked at Sam with disgust. "_Besides_ people like me, I mean. There are girls out there who love bacon and its nice qualities. There are even people with bacon tattoos and I once saw a _pig_ who thought the taste of bacon was too good to resist!"

"Sam, that was a mini-mart outdoor we saw last week; and that advertiser made a dreadful work. The poor pig was eating one of its relatives!"

"Well, that's just comes to prove how_ far _someone could go for bacon, Freddie!" Sam pointed out so passionately even Freddie let out a loud laughter. She laughed too, right after him and, when Freddie stood up and walked to the living room, he smiled at Sam:

"Thanks." He said. "Oh my God, I said that three times today already, haven't I? What's _wrong_ with me?"

"Is it finally time for my slideshow presentation?"

"Shut up, Puckett." He said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, and Freddie…"

"Yeah?"

"If everything still turns out really bad, you could always take advantage of Carls' nonsense fear of giant birds to save her when Spencer accidentally sets fire at their giant Tsuru."

"Oh, shut up, Samantha." She punched him on the mouth.

"Don't you call me by my full name, Fredward!"

"Argh, isn't this just typical of you? We can't have one decent conversation without…" They went on insulting each other for the next fifteen minutes.

"Hey, guys, why is Mrs. Benson locked inside her own apartment?" Carly entered her house just to walk in on her two best friends arguing even louder than her psycho neighbor was yelling. "Oh, c'mon!" She said as she realized what was going on. She went into the kitchen and grabbed their sink hose to splash them with water, finally getting their attention.

"Hey, hey!" Freddie said, protecting himself from the water while Sam did the same:

"Is that really necessary?"

"Yes, yes it is! Why is it that I can't trust you two to be alone with each other without knowing I'll be later walking in into World War III every time?" They opened their mouths to protest (probably the same thing at the same time like they had been doing lately, Carly thought) but she interrupted them. "I don't wanna hear it, kids!" She splashed each one twice. "My brother just acquired one giant bright red paper bird so my life is already pretty bad without the two of you arguing!" She stood there quietly, watching them for a while before stamping her foot:

"Oh, Sam! You ate Spencer's meatballs again?"

"I can't help it; I really think I have a problem." She answered sheepishly.

"Oh, you have a problem alright." Freddie snorted, his tone filled with sarcasm.

Sam grabbed a cushion and started suffocating him with it.

They both started yelling at each other again.

Carly wished she had a bigger hose. And maybe a taser too.

She had always known Sam had a problem with keeping a distance from her addictions, it didn't really matter whether it was ham, fried chicken, meatballs…or bacon.

**A/N:**_Just so I could write a little more fluff than before, I went for a scene from after iSaved Your Life. I know Sam's "code" for Freddie is actually Fried Chicken but I just couldn't help but to come up with this story when he yelled "I'm Just Bacon!" during the episode. How come he calls himself that when we all know Sam's opinion on bacon? Especially the foreign type. _

_On a side note, I'd like to mention that stuff like the Camping trip with Spencer and such are usually taken from the character's blog entries and stuff, just in case you're wondering._

_P.S.: If you just recieved a "new chapter" alert, I'm sorry, I had to reaupload this 'cause was with a minor bug here! :} _


	3. iWas Mad at You

**iLoathe**** You**** (A Lot)**

**A/N: **_I'm still overwhelmed by how utterly nice you guys have been with the feedbacks, please, keep them coming! I'm not really proud of this one but it's one of the few stories that takes a more serious and even a bit of a sad approach on their relationship. I wish it was funnier but it's not, sorry, lol. I didn't review this text for typos and grammar yet so…Good luck reading!_

_And if you didn't get your review replied is probably 'cause you don't accept ffnet PMs! Go change that configuration already! Love. _

**iWas Mad at You**

**Summary:** _Sam forgives Freddie. Even though she didn't know she was angry in the first place. Set during "iEnrage Gibby"._

"You have to talk Gibby out of this stupid fight." Carly mentioned on their way home from school. Sam stared at her in surprise as if she had just asked her to throw five pounds of fillet through the window.

"Excuse me, have we met?" Sam said still shocked Carly would ask her of all people to stop _anyone_ from hitting Freddie. "I think you mistook me for someone who cares." Carly rolled her eyes at Sam's ways knowingly and said:

"You do care." Sam raised an eyebrow at her. "Yes, you do. You offered him meat the other day during lunch and you never offer meat to anyone but me and your cat." Sam shrugged:

"You don't know. Maybe I had poisoned it…"

"You wouldn't waste meat on a simple murder attempt."

"Maybe it had fallen on the floor…"

"Like _that_ has ever stopped you before."

Sam stared at Carly speechless for almost a minute, almost forgetting to hold on to her smoothie. She slowly blinked herself out of a trance and scowled:

"Still…I'm not helping the dork."

"Oh, c'mon, Sam, he doesn't deserve to be "_Gibby Bashed_"." Sam laughed:

"You're right, nobody deserves that…" They arrived at Bushwell Plaza just in time to find Freddie and his mom about to leave for their weekly doctor appointment. Sam's expression changed from glee to contempt in less than a second. "…except him._ He_ deserves whatever comes his way."

"How come I got here before you guys? You left at least half an hour before I did!" Freddie pointed out as he spotted them.

"Your super dorky powers make you move faster." Sam answered immediately, as if in reflex. Carly glared at her and waved her smoothie cup at Freddie:

"Emergency Stop at the Groovy Smoothie 'cause Sam was hungry."

"And it only took you half an hour to consider yourself full?" He stared in shock at Sam and then turned back to Carly. "We have a new record!" Sam opened her mouth to say something but Mrs. Benson was already yelling from the door for Freddie to hurry and Lewbert looked as if he was about to rub his wart against them, so they split hurriedly; Freddie towards his mom and the girls towards the stairs.

"I wonder what Mrs. Benson will do once she finds out Gibby wants to fight Freddie." Carly mentioned while they went up, trying to get back into the previous topic. "Poor Freddie…" She glanced at Sam from the corner of her eye, trying to check for a reaction. Sam stopped walking abruptly as she heard Carly's words and her gaze soon became lost. "Sam?" Carly tried. "Are you ok?"

"Shush!" Sam raised her hand in the air. "I'm enjoying the moment here. Oh the things she will do…"

"_Sam!"_Carly yelled.

"What?" She asked snapping out from her state and walking again. "Look, why don't _you_ do it? He's _your_ stalker, not mine." Carly looked tired as she breathed in heavily:

"I did! I mean, at least I tried, but it turns out that, since I hang around with Freddie, people assume we are friends so, when I went to Gibby to help him see reason, he accused me of just trying to protect a friend." She stared at Sam pleadingly again. "You, on the other hand, do nothing but torture him all the time. No one would expect you to defend him if he wasn't really innocent." They arrived at number 8C's door and Sam was still in silence. "Sam?" Carly tried with a smile and her most persuasive tone. "Please?"

"I don't know, Carls, it's still too much of a beautiful scenario to avoid. I mean, face it, would you stop the sun from setting? The birds from singing? The fried chicken from coming in buckets?" Sam was lost in a trance again. "I'm not sure I can do it, Carly, it's against everything I believe in."

"I'll buy you bacon."

"Let's call Gibby, shall we?"

* * *

Sam took a deep breath. For some reason she couldn't quite figure out, being at Gibby's front door made her feel nauseated and icky. Sure, she had around three to five thousand theories as to why that was happening (and only the minority of them had anything to do with the meatloaf leftovers she had found under her bed that morning and eaten anyway) but still, they didn't feel quite accurate. Before she could ring the bell, however, her phone vibrated. She stared at screen and picked it up:

"Dork."

"Devil."

"What's up?"

"Have you, by any chance, seen my gym shorts?"

"Gross. Why would I know that?"

"Because they have been missing since yesterday after class and today a couple of guys from AV club told me they saw you setting something on fire at the school's parking lot." Sam bit her lower lip pondering:

"Were they dark blue?"

"Yeah."

"Did they have white stripes on the side, a stain close to the left knee and your initials written in black marker on the inside strap?"

"Yes." Freddie answered trying to control his tone. Sam went quiet for a minute or more:

"Uh…No, I haven't seen them at all."

"Yeah, right, 'cause you sounded very convincible."

"Whatever rocks your boat, dude." She said. "I'm busy now, so…"

"No, Sam, wait. There's something I want to ask you."

"Good, I thought you'd never ask." She answered happily. "Carly doesn't like you 'cause, besides being a nub, you're also very…"

"_It's not that!"_ He yelled from the other side of the line.

"Oh." She sounded honestly disappointed. "Then what? Hurry up; I don't have all day and…"

"Are you mad at me?" Sam was interrupted midsentence and found herself unable to answer to that question for a while until she finally regained composure and answered:

"Yes."

Freddie was quiet, absorbing the information. Sam rolled her eyes, so typical of him to overreact at her attitude:

"Of course, I'm mad at you, Freddifer. I've been mad at you since I met you; the fact that you exist enrages me more than the idea of fat-free fat cakes." She heard him sighing in relief from the other side of the line which confused her a bit. "Why ask?"

He chuckled nervously:

"I'm not sure it's sane to answer to that question." His answer sent a cold feeling through her whole body and her voice came out hoarse, filled with anger and promises of physical pain:

"Did you _do_ something to enrage me, Benson?" She took a breath. "Something more specific than being born in the same generation as me and daring to live in the same country, like that time when you handcuffed me to Gibby?" Freddie laughed out loud then stopped abruptly as he heard the sound of her heavy breathing.

"Uh...no, no! I swear! I was just wondering cause…" He went quiet. "'Cause I think you've been acting weird." He went quiet again. "Weirder than usual, you know?"

"No." She answered bluntly. "I don't know what you mean."

Everything went quiet, Sam almost hang up on Freddie 'cause this whole thing was getting on her nerves but she waited anyway 'cause something in the way he was breathing told her that he was freaking out really hard and she truly loved when he freaked out. It was the highlight of her grey Seattle days. She knew him well enough to know it was a matter of seconds before he started yelling randomly in Spanish so she just remained quiet waiting hopefully for the desperate cries that were about to come.

"FREDDIE'S WEDGIE FEBBIE!" He yelled louder than what she had expected him to.

"_What?"_ She managed to mumble, absolutely confused.

"Oh, you know what I mean; you were the one who named it in the first place! It's February! Every February, you celebrate my birthday by giving me at least seven wedgies a week, but it's almost March and yet…"

Sam went so quiet, Freddie honestly thought she had hung up now. When she finally spoke, her voice was half amused half bewildered:

"You thought…I was mad at you because…I haven't…" She tried really hard not to laugh. "…given you…your birthday _wedgies_?"

"I told you it wasn't a sane answer!" He said defensive. "I just, you know, got a little worried and…It's not like I miss it or anything. If you have given up the tradition, then I'm ok with it. It'll be nice to be able to have children someday." Sam sneered:

"I don't know why you complain…It's not like you'll ever get the opportunity to find out whether your swimmers can or can't…"

"_Just_ shut up, will you?" He cut her off, embarrassed. "And FYI…" He really did say the three letters, Sam thought, what kind of loser speaks like that? "My mom and I do a monthly check on my_ swimmers_…and they are alright." Freddie went quiet. "Why did I just tell you that?"

"You must have no wish for a social life, I suppose." Sam sighed, smirking. "Now, if you excuse me, I have a few blog entries to post and texts to send."

"Ugh, Sam, no…Why can't you just…?" She hung up ignoring his protests and sighed happily. Nothing could possibly smell, taste or feel better than her good and old daily dose of Freddie failures.

Except for meat flavored jellybeans; if they ever invented meat flavored jellybeans, they'd be the best thing in the world.

Sam put her phone back on her jeans' pocket and stared at the Gibson's door once again; suddenly, she felt icky again for no apparent reason. As Sam really hated not feeling good, she decided to solve everything at once and leave the place. Life had taught her that whenever she felt something painful dancing in her guts, it could always mean you were feeling your scrupulous shaping up. She feared that more than she feared the extinction of pigs so, whenever she felt anything remotely similar to emotional pain, she just ran away from it.

That's the Puckett way of handling things.

"Gibby!" She yelled and punched the door. "Move your shirtless ass right here and open this door." The door opened but Sam didn't see anyone. "Uh?" She looked around for someone 'till she felt a pull on her pants and looked down. She let out a horrified scream:

"Oh my God! Gibby, you became a midget!" She said looking at the mini version of Gibby staring at her.

"That's Guppy, Sam, my little brother." The real Gibby appeared at the living room.

"Little Brother?" Sam was shocked. "That's weird."

"Why? Can't I have a sibling?"

"Of course you can, I just don't see why anyone would try for a second baby with the same person after they had…._you_." Gibby raised his eyebrows at her.

"My mom likes us."

"I'm sure she does." She said rolling her eyes and following Gibby inside his house all the way to the backyard where he had a punching bag with Freddie's picture glued to it. "Aww…" Sam sighed happily. "This reminds me of my own place!"

Gibby didn't seem to listen to her as he started to punch the bag like there was no tomorrow. Normally, Sam would've enjoyed the moment but the house made her feel bad, Mini Gibby was a little scary and as if watching Gibby walk around shirtless wasn't already bad enough, seeing him throwing punches while his belly "jiggled" was even worse, so she spoke:

"Soooo, Gibby, you're probably wondering why I'm here." She started.

"No, I'm not." He answered without looking at her. "You're going to try to stop me from fighting Freddie." Sam felt her stomach turn:

"Oh man, just the sound of this idea makes me feel sick!" She said rubbing her belly. "But yeah, that's why. Don't hit Freddie." Gibby looked back at her and shrugged:

"Hm, one would think you'd be more vehement on your speech."

"Hm?" She asked, confused.

"I mean, I thought you'd try punching me out of it or something. I thought Benson was like your…"

"Finish this sentence and I _will_ punch you, Gibson." Sam said, her eyes narrowed to a very thin line. Gibby gulped and went back to his punching bag.

Sam watched him throwing punches; he wasn't bad, really but his moves were weak, inconsistent…Even Freddork would have a chance against him, if he didn't keep his guard up.

"Gibby, give up, will you? Freddie didn't hit on your girlfriend and neither did she. Do you honestly think Freddie had any chance with Tasha?" Sam decided it was best not to mention that, if Tasha was willing to date Gibby, she was probably willing to date a rotten can of soup as well. Gibby didn't look at her. "Besides, Benson is a lot of disgusting things but he is not…" She fought the urge to puke and laugh at the same time what made the next words need a lot of effort to come out. "He's not…a _player_." She left a chuckle escape her lips, she couldn't help herself. "Today was a weird day." She told him shrugging when he stared at her confused.

"It doesn't matter." He punched the bag again.

"What you mean it doesn't matter? Of course it matters!" She walked strong steps and stood with her hands on her hips next to the punching bag. "I'm telling you Freddie didn't make a move on Tasha; it was an accident! It didn't mean anything to neither of them!" Gibby breathed in and out and then sighed tiredly:

"The thing is, Sam, that, until you are in my situation, you won't be able to understand." This sentence required a whole lot of will power from Sam as all she wanted was to ask whether she'd understand him better if she took her shirt off. Once her urges were controlled, she scowled at Gibby; that conversation was already taking longer than what she had intended.

"Try me." She said her arms around the punching bag so Gibby wouldn't be tempted to avoid conversation. He looked at her and then at the punching bag 'till his eyes finally fell to the ground.

"I like Tasha, ok?" He said at last. "And she liked me; and we had something. We had our jokes and our plans and she liked me even when I didn't wear shirts for our dates or when I started dancing randomly at public places. Tasha was mine!" Sam focused on the bacon Carly was going to buy her. This whole awkward conversation would be worth it when she had the bacon with her. Gibby went on:

"Freddie didn't know Tasha, he didn't like Tasha." He looked really mad. "Sam, do you have any idea how it feels to walk into somewhere you go everyday, somewhere that feels like home and find two people you like and trust acting behind your back?" Sam was going to roll her eyes but stopped. She stared at Gibby and she then understood why that house felt so icky to her, her nails carved into the punching bag slightly.

"I was happy that day, I was very happy." Gibby told her. "I went up there to pick Tasha up and say bye to Freddie and suddenly my world was upside down with anger and betrayal." Sam had no idea Gibby could be so passionate, still she thought his feelings to be quite captivating as she too felt her blood boiling under her skin. But then again, she was not known for her self-control.

"I'm Gibby, Sam, I've always been Gibby: weird, funny, shirtless Gibby but not to Tasha. Tasha looked at me differently; she was the only one in the whole world…"

"Besides your mom." Sam pointed out.

"Yeah, besides my mom." He agreed. "Tasha could have anyone she wanted but she was with me, you know? It really hurt seeing her there, it felt like…No matter how much I did, in the end of the day, I was still…just Gibby; she could still have something better."

"Freddie is not better than you, Gibby." Sam said, patting Gibby on the head. "Freddie is not even better than _botulism_! She laughed but Gibby just looked at her seriously:

"Ok, let me just ask you one question; if it were you, what would you do?"

Sam's first reaction to this was to open her mouth to say "I'd beat the crap out of them and move on. That's how I do it, I don't hold grudges on people I like; I just grab, spank, bleed them out and then…forgive." But she wasn't able to speak. She closed her mouth and thought.

"_Are you mad at me?"_ The sentence he had said earlier appeared on her head all of a sudden. She wasn't mad at him, she wasn't mad at anyone. Still, when she now thought about it…She really had avoided the wedgies and the prank calls…And she even didn't feel like sending him his monthly fake romantic text from Carly's phone. She had walked out on him the next day, when he came towards her with a smirk that could only mean he wanted to brag about something. She pretended she didn't care, she pretended she didn't see anything…

She was mad at him.

It wasn't out of jealousy or anything, of course. She remembered everything now: the way he had laughed when Gibby had refused to go with her and the way he had gotten a bunch of invites and how every guy in town wanted to go with Carly while she was alone…

It wasn't that she was mad at Freddie for dancing with Carly, she realized, she just hated the feeling of walking in into the two people who are always at your side to realize that, even for them, you aren't exactly necessary.

Funnily enough, she realized she hadn't been mad at Carly at all; she was used to the idea of she being better than her all the time. Who wouldn't like Carly? She's everyone's ideal of what a girl should be. Freddie, however…He wasn't allowed to have a life, let alone one that was better than hers.

Unfortunately for Sam, though, she realized she couldn't blame Freddie for not noticing she was mad for so long. She was still mean towards him and she still talked to him…It was not like she had changed a lot from her usual ways. Up until now, even she was ignorant to her own anger.

Even though she hated the simple thought of the comparison, she understood that her relationship with Freddie was somewhat like Tasha and Gibby's (in more senses than just the fact that the female was too hot to be seen walking next to the male): Freddie had learned not to back up when she threatened him, he had learned how to persuade her into doing things and, although he knew all the evil stuff she could do, he was still her friend…Every now and then.

Freddie put up with her inner Gibby, she concluded dramatically. Still, if Freddie could be left alone with Carly…Not the way they were before, while she was grateful he had saved her life. If they simply "could be", Sam realized, she'd be the one left aside.

Sam finally understood Gibby's situation. And she also realized she couldn't simply tell her friends about her own anger 'cause it was too pathetic.

And it would also make Freddie act all arrogant and stuff, which was even worse than sounding pathetic.

So she just shouted really loud, like a savage rabid cat – which made poor Guppy run for his life, crying – and punched Gibby's punching bag so hard it felt from its supporting chains. Freddie's photo on it was now crumbled in a way you could barely recognize it was him; she took a look at Gibby, her body still frozen in her punching position. He was looking at her, his eyes the size of golf balls and his legs shaking.

"Wha…What was that?" His voice came out barely audible. "Why…did you…?"

Sam smirked:

"You see what I just did here?" He nodded, unable to speak. "I'll teach how to do it if you promise me that that will be it."

"What?"

"Promise me you will kick Freddie's ass and humiliate him but then…promise me you'll get over it."

"What?"

"Grudges are stupid. Especially over such a stupid thing as a girlfriend; no matter how mad you are right now, it's not worth stop talking to such a good friend."

"How can I be sure you won't be a double agent, telling him what you're training me to do?"

"Seriously, Gibby?" She mocked him. "Why would I ever stop anyone from attacking Freddie? Seeing him suffer it's my favorite sport." She smiled; suddenly the house didn't feel as bad as it had felt earlier; she felt lighter. She wasn't holding a grudge anymore.

"And when you punch him…" She told Gibby. "Make sure you tell him "Sam taught me this one." Tell him it's a gift from me."

Gibby was still watching the bag on the ground and Guppy was still nowhere to be seen.

"Well, I'll leave you here to think about it; call me as soon as you decide." She said with a smile and a wave. "I have some birthday wedgies to give and I'm already a little late."

**A/N:** _I don't actually believe Sam got mad at Freddie at that scene, this idea just popped up while I was writing this story a while ago. This one was much longer than the original version but I should probably warn you that there are at least two more of these who are longer. One of them being about Sam and Freddie's blog entries on the Thanksgiving they had to spend together and the other being about iReunite with Missy. There are some other stories other than those two but you can keep suggesting scenes, guys. I love it when you do! :} _


	4. iDon't Like Q

**iLoathe You (A Lot)**

**A/N: **_I was a little impressed by how happy you guys were with the last story, really. Anyway, this week I ended up coming up with something around five new ideas for this story (Including this one) though a couple of them are still in the "development process" in my head. This chapter shows us a glimpse of the Puckett household and, although it's a "freddieless" seddie moment, I really enjoyed writing about the whole "Sisters know all" sort of thing and this ended up really, really long. Hope it doesn't make you really mad. _

**iDon't Like "Q"**

**Summary:** _Melanie learns a few things about Fredward Benson and ends up learning even more about her twin sister. Set some point after the end of iTwins and before iMust Have Locker 239. _

Entering the Puckett household while Melanie was visiting was like visiting a different place entirely, Carly thought as she walked into the living room right after Sam and Melanie. Unlike most days, there were no shoes thrown on the carpet, nor takeout leftovers on the coffee table. Melanie liked to organize things… a lot. The house smelled different too; Carly wondered whether it would be impolite to ask where all the raccoons were living now.

"Oh, man!" Sam complained as soon as they entered the house. "You messed everything again, Mel!" She threw her coat on the ground and Melanie picked it up with a smile on her face, placing it on the hanger by the door.

"It's called organization, Sam. That's how people usually do it, you know?"

Sam stared at her twin skeptically:

"You mess with this house's feng shui! Mom and I really work better living among chaos; just the other day, she couldn't find her dating shoes…you had put them on her wardrobe!" The way Sam said that, as if it was the most absurd thing ever, made Carly giggle and Melanie roll her eyes:

"Oh wow! _The wardrobe!_ I'm a real riot!" She giggled with Carly which only enraged Sam even more:

"Don't you just turn around and giggle! This house looks so different, my cat hasn't come back in three days! I bet he couldn't recognize it!" Melanie stared at her sister, trying to control her laughter:

"Sam, I'm sure Frothy hasn't gone missing. He just couldn't find food under your bed and ended up having to go out and hunt like other cats do…" At this, Sam crossed her arms:

"No way he'd ever do that; hunting takes effort and Frothy hates work as much as I do!" She seemed a little desperate now. "If he truly went hunting then he's probably dead by now…Poor thing only has three legs…"

"_And_ he's half blind." Carly pointed out (just because she truly enjoyed numbering Frothy's many healthy disabilities) which immediately made Sam lean on the walls for support. Melanie was still acting as if she thought her twin was overreacting when she looked up and spotted their mother - still in her robe though it was already 3 pm – on top of the stairs, an enormous cup of coffee on her hand and looking a bit annoyed:

"What are you kids arguing about, kiddos?" Mrs. Puckett was not known for her verbalization skills and it was even worse when she had just gotten out of bed.

"Mom, could you please tell Sam that having a clean house is a good thing?" Melanie said with a winning smile. Mrs. Puckett walked down the stairs very slowly in heavy steps and narrowed her eyes to take a better look at her children. She analyzed Melanie up and down:

"I thought _you_ were Sam."

The real Sam exchanged an annoyed look with Carly who just smiled knowingly and shrugged. Melanie nodded her head with all the patience of someone who had known the same person for ages:

"Nope, I'm Melanie." Mrs. Puckett – and they only referred to her as "Mrs." because she insisted on it 'cause it made her sound more respectable – approached the three of them even more and inhaled the air.

"Oh, I'm sorry, dear; my eyes are still not good from the surgery but I can tell you are Melanie now." She made a pause and looked at Sam to say in a completely different tone. "And you know why, Samantha? 'Cause _she_ smells like someone who showers."

Sam scowled at her mom:

"Well, you smell like a putrefying corpse ever since you turned 35 and you don't see _me_ throwing that on your face, do you?"

Carly's jaw dropped. She was used to Sam and Mrs. Puckett relationship for a while now but it never seized to amaze her how far they'd go to get on each other nerves. They then proceeded to insult each other more and more, louder and louder until the words they said were barely comprehensible. Melanie giggled and whispered in Carly's ear:

"They are so close, aren't they?"

"From _killing_ each other?" She asked, shocked. Melanie waved her off:

"Oh, Carly, you amaze me!" She giggled on her usual girlish ways. "That's their way to say they love each other and bond, you know? When mom goes visit me at school, she keeps insulting me and calling me Samantha in the middle of the night, shaking my shoulders and yelling "_I've wasted my youth and hot body on you! Get a well paid job now_" It's like withdraw, really." The way Melanie said that was almost as if she was telling Carly about a toddler who was learning to walk. She sighed while gazing at her family. "Feels good to be home, Carly Shay, feels good to be home."

Melanie got in between her mother and sister and snapped her fingers at their faces:

"Enough, you two crazy motor boats!" Carly could tell she was having the time of her life. She then turned to her mother. "Mom, have you seen Frothy?" Mrs. Puckett looked confused:

"Frothy? Hasn't that thing died like…three months ago?"

"_Died?" _Sam shouted. "I told you to take him to the vet four days ago! What did you think I was asking you to do? _Stuff_ it?"

"_That_ was Frothy?" Mrs. Puckett asked dully and then became really quiet; her expression extremely like Sam's guilty face after eating something Carly had prohibited her to. "Well…I'll just go…" She didn't finish her sentence and hurried upstairs.

"_You Monstress!_" Sam yelled. "Get back here! What did you do to my cat?" She turned around to face Carly and Melanie. "Can you believe that woman? I'm telling you, if she did anything harmful to Frothy, I…" Before Sam could finish her line, a horrible high pitched sound was heard all around the Puckett house, making the walls shake a bit, followed by Mrs. Puckett relieved comment that came from upstairs:

"All clear! Frothy is alive and kicking, girls!" As if to prove her right, the second she finished her sentence, a fat grey and black ball came flying down the stairs, making even higher noises and ran right past through the Puckett twins and Carly just to get hidden under the sofa, black eyes narrowed and back fur risen, completely alarmed.

"Aaaw, Frothy!" Sam commented happily as if Frothy was the cutest thing on earth since the birth of the first baby seal. "There you are, you dirty little thing!" She then continued in a goofy voice:

"Come to mamma, Frothy. Come to mamma!" The cat went feisty and hissed like a teapot for a long time 'till Sam said in a very authoritarian tone. "Stop goggling, Frothy, or you'll never see your catnip toy mouse again!"

Frothy immediately purred and limped towards Sam's arms.

"Well, that settles it then." Sam's mom reappeared in the living room, completely renovated, her hair (that, this month had been dyed on an stunning shade of red) on a ponytail, with a smile on her lips. "And what's better: now I know why the hat kept scratching me on my date a couple of days ago."

"You thought Frothy was a _hat_?" The three of them said at the same time. Mrs. Puckett stared at them bewildered by their reaction and then smiled at them:

"Well, I had a date with a Russian man and I thought I should try and look good for him, right? When Sam brought me that furry thing I thought it was a Russian hat. Hat, cat and vet all sound very similar!" She took a deep breath. "Well, that what one gets for believing that devil would ever try to help me."

"You should try to help _yourself_, woman." Carly heard Sam mutter next to her and chuckled, she then spoke to Sam's mom:

"But…Mrs. Puckett, if you're having such trouble seeing things…Isn't it bad to go out on dates?" Carly fought a smile as the silly joke formed on her head. "I mean…go out on _blind _dates?" she asked suggestively. Melanie laughed, Sam glared at the two of them and Mrs. Puckett just stared into the nowhere 'till she snapped out of a trance:

"Oh! Is that you Carly?" She asked once she "woke up". "I thought I had heard your voice but I wasn't sure until I heard the smell of your sense of humor." Sam laughed through her nose and Carly scowled at her; she mouthed the word "sorry" but Carly saw her touching knuckles with her mom as soon as she thought her friend wasn't looking anymore.

"So, Mrs. Puckett, isn't it harder to date when you're not seeing well?' Carly got back to the topic with her eyes still focused on Sam with annoyance. Mrs. Puckett laughed:

"Oh, Carly, you're so young and naïve!" She was laughing so hard she held to hold on to her stomach. "Being blind is so much easier. It's like being guided by your heart only!"

"By "heart" she means the little radar she has in her head that goes crazy when she smells money." Melanie whispered matter-of-factly on Carly's ear.

"Oh." She acknowledged.

"Well, Carly…" Sam's mom's voice was now very suggestive. "Do you wanna stay for a late lunch? We are having the Puckett family's secret recipe tonight."

"Sure!" The secret recipe was actually a combination of microwave pancakes and three different takeout combos from Thai, Indian and Chinese food with barbecue sauce. The only reason it was a secret it's because no Puckett would ever tell you which combo numbers to ask or the numbers to the restaurants they called.

"Good!" Mrs. Puckett said, leading the girls to the kitchen so they could use the phone there. "So, tell me Carly, how's that handsome older brother of yours? Is he seeing anyone?" Carly tried not to barf. "I mean, I've always had a thing for young, tormented artists…"

"You've always had a thing for people with a y chromosome." Sam said rolling her eyes. Carly and Melanie stared at her, impressed:

"What?" She asked. "Every now and then, when I'm copying Benson's test answers, I absorb a little something or two."

"God bless Fredward Benson, Samantha." Mrs. Puckett said patting Sam's hair. "That boy is your only chance at ever getting into college someday." She grabbed the phone and gestured to Carly to close her eyes while she dialed the numbers. Sam touched Carly's shoulder to warn her when it was ok for her to look again and, as she turned around she realized something on the twins' mom she hadn't noticed before:

"Aww, how cute! Your mom has a tattoo with your initials on her neck!" She said to Melanie and Sam pointing to the little red heart on Mrs. Puckett neck that hung right above the letters "S&M". Both twins looked a little alarmed. Melanie scratched the back of her head:

"Hm, yeah, we are not totally sure it stands for our names, really."

"What could it possibly mean?" Carly asked, raising one eyebrow.

"We like to think it stands for our names, ok? Let's _not_ elaborate." Sam said drinking water and feeding Frothy a piece of steak she took out from her pocket.

"Ok." Carly agreed without effort.

When the takeout arrived, the four of them sat around the coffee table and turned the TV on for a marathon of "Celebrities Underwater". They all ate from the boxes (to avoid having to wash the dishes later) with chopsticks except for Sam who thought chopsticks were very little effective on their work (that being grabbing as much food as possible at once), so she simply used a giant fork (that looked suspiciously similar to the one Freddie had bought along with his fake espionage pie a couple of years before but Carly decided it was better not to ask).

"Say, Melanie, you enjoying your stay so far?" Carly intentionally interrupted Mrs. Puckett who had just started a list of things she wanted to do with some of the male celebrities wearing swimsuits. Melanie smiled thankfully and then replied:

"Oh, very much! I had such a wonderful time so far, it'll be sad getting back to school by the end of the week." They both ignored Sam's comments on how _not sad_ the experience would be to her. "And everyone's being so nice as well! You, Spencer…and Freddie too; Freddie is wonderful!" Sam choked on her food causing Melanie to glare at her. Mrs. Puckett took her eyes from the TV and said:

"That Benson is one nice kid, especially since he still talks to Samantha after all of the things she put him through." She poked her food with the chopsticks absently. "She once had the poor boy camping outside our house for a whole night! I was dating a cop back then, you see? And she used him to get past a whole line of nerds who were waiting in front of the mall…Trying to get copies to one of those dorky movies about the space…" She looked questioningly to the girls.

"Galaxy Wars." Carly and Sam answered at the same time.

"Yeah, that." Mrs. Puckett nodded. "Sam bought all of the copies the store had…" She glared at Sam. "You'd think she'd use her money for something more useful." Sam made a face:

"If you guys had seen the dork's face when I appeared surrounded by cops and got all the copies, you'd know just how useful my money is." The other three rolled her eyes at her.

"Anyway, I was out that night and Sam made Benson sleep in a tent outside our house…"

"He was already in a tent in front of the mall! It's not like I stole him from the comfort of his own house or anything!" Mrs. Puckett ignored her daughter's remarks and continued:

"Next thing I know, it's early morning, I'm parking the car and I see this tiny little boy – cause back then he was hardly as tall as he is now – trying to get out from a tent that was covered by at least twenty wild raccoons."

Melanie took her hand to her lips:

"Oh my Gosh! Poor Freddie!"

Sam chuckled modestly, as if she had just heard a compliment:

"I poured honey and nuts on the tent while he was asleep!"

"Sam!" Melanie exclaimed in shock.

"Oh, get over it. He's still alive, isn't he? Besides, it's not like he had an immunologic system until he met me! His mom was always so overprotective that boy had never faced one illness 'till he met. He should _thank_ me; I made him stronger!"

"As Hitler made the Jewish people tougher." Carly added in a sarcastic mutter, rolling her eyes.

"Don't get clever on me now, Shay." Sam told her with a glare.

"Nah, I'll have to agree with Samantha on that one…" Mrs. Puckett added, looking very pensive. "That Marissa is one big bawl of insane ice cream with freak out cashew nuts on top of it. She keeps calling me all the time, complaining about Sam's manners and Sam's actions. Look, I know Samantha is a walking death threat but I got used to it, right? We should learn to accept people as they are, ain't I right?" Sam nodded in agreement vehemently. "I'm tired of having to pick up the phone whenever she calls and listen to her awfully nasal voice complaining about stupid things like "Oh, hey, your daughter just punched my little Fredward's face." And "Oh, Samantha just threw Freddie out of a flying plane in Japan! You better ground her!"" Mrs. Puckett rolled her eyes. "The boy had _parachutes_, it's not like he was going to die or anything!"

Carly and Melanie exchanged a horrified look before staring at Sam and her mother nodding in agreement to each other with their mouths full.

"Well…" Melanie tried cutting the silence. "No wonder Freddie had such a hard time believing I wasn't Sam tricking him into believing I was her twin."

"He didn't believe you had a sister?" Mrs. Puckett asked Sam. "But he's been here before; there are pictures of Mel everywhere."

"He thought they were pictures of me."

"How come? You and Sam are nothing alike."

"Mom…"

"Yeah?"

"I'm _Sam_."

"Oh." Mrs. Puckett seemed confused but then corrected herself. "You and _Melanie_ are nothing alike." Sam and Melanie rolled their eyes at the same time.

"Anyway, poor Freddie kept trying to make me "admit" I was Sam." Melanie told them. "He held my hand and said "C'mon, give up now, Sam" and he asked me to dance and when I told him I would love to, I swear to you, he looked as if he was going to puke."

"_I'm_ going to puke." Sam pointed it out but both Carly and Mrs. Puckett were too absorbed in Melanie's tale to pay any attention to that.

"And you danced with him?" Mrs. Puckett asked.

"Oh man! The images in my head right now! The images in my head!" Carly pointed out laughing, having what felt like the best time in her life, jumping up and down on her seat. "Go ahead, Melanie. Did you dance with Freddie?"

"Of course I did." Sam started making faces as if her food tasted funny. "A _slow_ song."

"That's it. It has finally happened: I'm out of appetite." Sam said pushing her box of food away. "This conversation has absolutely ruined my appetite." Mrs. Puckett barely listened to her and, without taking her eyes from Melanie she patted Sam on the head:

"Good for you, dear, now shush, Mommy is talking to Sam."

"It's _Melanie_!" Sam pointed out angrier than before. "I'd never do any of these things!"

"Sure…" Mrs. Puckett wasn't even acknowledging her anymore. Sam crossed her arms and left out an angry sigh.

"Anyway, to prove my point, I told Freddie: "Well, would Sam do this?" and then I kissed him."

"You _kissed _him?" Mrs. Puckett asked completely psyched.

"Oh my God! Freddie must have had a seizure!" Carly exclaimed half laughing, half shocked.

"You said my name right before you got anywhere near Benson's lips? I don't ever want to see you again!" Sam protested pulling out her own hair in anger.

"Well, I think your sister did well!" Mrs. Puckett told Sam. "I didn't have much faith in that boy before but he done a great job growing up…"

"_What's wrong with this family?" _Sam stood up indignantly waving her hands in the air dramatically. Melanie stared at her with a knowing smile and a raised eyebrow:

"You are one to talk, aren't you Sam? 'Cause when I kissed Freddie, he…"

Before Melanie finished her line, Frothy – who had been licking Sam's giant fork on the floor – suddenly flew through the coffee table in a desperate rush, hissing and turning Sam's food all over Carly.

"Oh no, Carls!" Sam said with a desperate look. "There's guacamole all over your new shirt!"

"There's guacamole in this?" Carly asked staring at her lunch box. All three Pucketts exchanged worried glances:

"Please, pretend you never heard that." Melanie said and Carly nodded. Sam got on her knees and grabbed a napkin:

"Oh man, we need to wash this or else it will be stained forever. Right, mom?" She turned to Mrs. Puckett who just shrugged and drank soda from her bottle:

"You ask me like I have ever done any laundry work in my life…"

"There's some in your hair as well, Carls." Melanie said. "Come with me, I'll get you a clean set of clothes while you take a shower." Carly looked a little concerned so Melanie smiled reassuringly. "You can use _my_ bathroom."

"_Thanks!_" She looked very comforted before following Melanie upstairs. Mrs. Puckett looked around her messy living room and sighed before turning to Sam and speaking:

"It almost looks like home again now, doesn't it?" Sam nodded. "Good. Now, clean the guacamole from the carpet before it stains, will you?"

"Why _me_?" Sam asked. "You're the mother!"

"Exactly." Mrs. Puckett said lying on the couch and kicking her fluffy pink slippers away. "And as far I remember; you didn't spend nine hours on a bus giving birth to two huge headed blond twins, did you, Samantha? Now, please, start cleaning. Mummy needs a nap." And she immediately closed her eyes and started snoring.

"Merciless Monster." Sam whispered as she went towards the kitchen for a bucket of bleach to throw at the carpet (the stain would go away and she wouldn't have to scrub, right? What could go wrong?).

"Carly is showering." Melanie's voice came from behind her. "And please tell me you're not thinking about using bleach on the carpet."

"I won't tell you, then." Sam answered but didn't stop filling the bucket. Melanie sighed and started collecting the really effective cleaning material:

"Forget it, Sam. I'll clean the carpet for you."

"If you insist." She let go of the bucket at once and started walking out of the kitchen immediately but her twin grabbed her before she could move any further.

"Wait a minute there, Sam. I want to talk to you."

"Well, that makes one of us." Sam answered trying to let go of her sister's hold though she knew that, although being girly, when Melanie truly wanted to, she could be just as strong as her. Eventually, she stopped struggling. "What do you want, Melanie?" She finally asked grumpily, making Melanie smirk.

"Good." She said. "Sit down." She pointed towards the kitchen table and Sam obeyed her. They stood there in silence as Melanie mixed the cleaning products.

"Well?" Sam insisted. "I don't have all day!"

Melanie assumed a dreamy look and sighed:

"Do you remember that boy Charlie that used to live here on the neighborhood back when we were three?"

"Sure." Sam replied resting her chins on her hands. "What about him?"

"Oh, nothing really." Melanie answered. "I was just thinking about the two of you and how you were so cute, holding hands while we played in the sandbox… And how you used to tell everyone he was your boyfriend and then, when he wasn't looking, you put mud on his food and buried his favorite toys, remember that?" Sam sighed impatiently:

"Jeez, I wonder where you wanna get with this conversation, Melanie…" Sam mocked her. "Let me guess what your next line will be!" She said in a stupid sounding high voice. ""There's a thin line between love and hate", right? Well, if that's it then let me be the first to throw cold water on your dreams: no matter how thin the line is, Benson and I are so far from it on the hate side that we can see those mirage heat waves when we take a look at the horizon."

Melanie giggled happily and shook her head:

"You're so cute when you act all defensive." She placed her own chin on her hands as well. "But that's not why I want to talk to you."

"Then what?" Sam raised an eyebrow and she immediately realized that was the wrong move 'cause Melanie's smirk became so proud she was suddenly very aware they were twins.

"Oh, I don't know…" Mel smiled. "It's just that…I could swear I saw your foot stepping on Frothy's tail right before he dropped your food all over Carly." Sam avoided her sister's eyes. "I almost thought it happened on purpose but that wouldn't make sense, right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Melanie."

"And then…" She went on, ignoring Sam. "I remembered something funny about my date with Freddie and that I was about to comment with Carly and then I wondered, why would Sam not want me to tell what I know to Carls? Carls and Sam don't have any secrets, right?"

"Melanie…"

"You know what Freddie told me after I kissed him, Sam?" Sam didn't answer; she was too focused carving her nails on the wooden table as to stop her from hitting her sister. "He said: You promised me we would never do that..." Melanie made a calculated pause. "…_again_."

Sam moved her hands through the table and her nails left marks on it that would make Wolverine scared:

"Stupid Benson…" Sam muttered. When she looked up, Melanie's evil smirk had disappeared and she was back to her giggly, bubbly looking self, her fingertips barely covering her dropped jaw.

"You seriously _did_ kiss Freddie?" She squealed making Sam wince. "You have to tell me it all!"

"No, I don't!"

"Of course you do, I'm your sister!" She said in a persuasive tone that was ineffective. "And if you don't tell me, I'll just ask Carly, how's that?"

Sam's jaw dropped in shock.

"You're…_kidding_ me." Her eyes narrowed in anger and Melanie crossed her arms, determined:

"I'm serious, Samantha." She stood up. "I'd ask Freddie, of course, but he's been running away from me so I think I'll have to ask for Carly to ask him or something…" She started walking slowly out of the kitchen. "How do you think she'll react over the fact that you didn't tell her anything?" Melanie stopped on her heels. "By the way, _why_ didn't you tell her?"

Sam stared at her own knees feeling her breathing fail her. She tried to keep calm mostly because she knew she'd be in big trouble if she hit Melanie and she got sent to a hospital. Being grounded would be ok but she was afraid the doctors would ask her sister to rest and then she'd be stuck in the same house as her for even more time.

"I didn't tell Carly 'cause it's none of her business."

"What you mean is none of her business?" Melanie asked sitting on the chair next to Sam's. "You're her two best friends! She'd like to know the two of you made out."

"We did NOT make out, Melanie. Please don't ever say that again." Sam turned green. "It makes me woozy." She took one last look at her sister's face and gave up looking down:

"Look, Melanie, I know you got all worked up over me and Freddork but don't be, it wasn't as important as you think. I went too far on a prank and told everyone about how he had never kissed anyone and so the whole school – and basically everyone else in the world that owned a computer and was watching iCarly that day – started mocking him for it." Melanie looked reprovingly at her sister:

"Sam!"

"I know, I know." She waved her off. "Well, then Carly told me I had been really, really off, so I was a little guilty and told everyone _I_ hadn't kissed anyone either so they shouldn't mock Freddie for it, that they should mock _me_, instead, if they had the guts…" Melanie left out a throaty squeal escape from her lips. "And so, after the show, I went looking for Freddie who had watched the webcast from his house and we talked and we agreed it was stupid to get so worried about such a silly thing and then we…"

"Oh…my…God." Melanie's voice was barely a whisper and she was smiling from ear to ear.

"…Decided it was better to just get it out of the way at once and then go back to hating each other; the end! See? I told you it wasn't important." Sam finished and raised her eyes from her knees at once just to find her sister in absolute joy. "What? Why are you looking so weird at me like this?"

"You were each other's…_first kiss_?"

"Why are your eyes sparkling like that, Melanie?" Sam sounded a little scared.

"That's so…_cute_!"

"_WHAT_?"

Melanie threw her arms around her twin, squeezing her as strong as she could while Sam struggled and slapped her arms. She squeaked and yelled in her girlish voice kissing Sam's head.

"Can you believe when I left for school you were still breaking boys' thumbs for asking you out?"

"Mel, Mel…let me go! Let me go before I kill you…_Melanie!_"

"Uh…what's going on here?" Carly appeared on the kitchen, her dirty clothes on her hands, wearing one of Sam's shirts and jeans.

"My awful sister is trying to _bond_ with me against my will!" Sam replied and Melanie finally let go of her and grabbed Carly's clothes from her hands:

"I'll wash these for you, Carls."

"No, don't worry, Melanie. Spencer just called; turns out he set fire to his hair again and now I have to hurry home and consol him."

"Oh my, is he hurt?" Melanie asked, worried.

"No, not really. He's just really into his hair." Carly shrugged. "Sam, you come with me?"

"Sure." Sam answered standing up. She tried to follow Carly out of kitchen but Melanie held her once again. She rolled her eyes at her. "Now what, _Melrose_?"

With a final smile, Melanie whispered in her ear:

"You know, sis, there truly _is_ one very thin like between love and hate."

Sam glared at her. Melanie was the worst type of person in the world: she looks and acts innocent but, in the end of the day, she's just as vicious as any other Puckett who has ever lived: manipulative, troublemaker and down right evil. Kinda like "Q" is just an "O" with a fancy tail. No matter how much "Q" calls himself a consonant, it's still just a vowel with a snobby attitude.

"I _hate_ you!" She told Melanie with narrowed eyes but she only smiled and kissed Sam's cheek.

"And _I_ hate you too, Sam."

Sam walked out of the kitchen to find Carly next to the door, grabbing their coats.

"You look upset." Her best friend pointed out as Sam rubbed her cheek vehemently trying to clean Melanie's DNA from it (even though Freddie's tests had also taught her that, since they were twins, she couldn't exactly erase Melanie's DNA from her). "Did something happen?"

"No, not really." She answered absently. "I'm just thinking about how much I hate "Q"."

**A/N:** _Long and useless? Well, maybe yes, lol. But I wanted to explore the Melanie and Sam sorta thing. I just think that, living alone and being so different from the rest of her family, Melanie would see things in a "big sister" sort of way. I also really liked to write about Mrs. Puckett, I guess. I'm not decided on which episode should come next but I think it'll be set during "iQuit iCarly"'cause it'll be a good romance balance since this one lacked a little on the romantic side. :} Please, review! And, hm, if you don't get the S&M joke...please don't google it. lol _


	5. iWill Apologize Every Year or So

**iLoathe You**

**A/N: **_You guys are awesome, have I told you that? Anyway, I was going to do an "iQuit" one shot, decided for an "iMake Sam Girlier" one and, before I noticed, I had this "iMove Out" story completely written in my head, lol. _

_I think this one is the "fluffiest" so far in the sense of being so Seddie it almost steps outside the cannon territory. Hopefully, you'll like it. A lot of "iKiss" references on this one, by the way._

**iWill Apologize Every Year or So **

**Summary:** _Sam keeps a promise, defends a psychopath and complains about Freddie's musical taste. Set during iMove Out. _

When younger, Fredward Benson used to have a recurring nightmare.

In his dream, Samantha Puckett would set fire to his underwear, cover him in honey and then throw him at a cage filled with wild Asian black bears. Then she'd just grab a folding chair and watch as he was both mauled and burned with a smile on her face and a bucket of fried chicken on her lap. And, if Freddie managed to stay asleep through the whole nightmare, he'd even hear her comment to someone (even though there was never anyone around her):

"You see? That's what I call real entertainment!"

As he grew older, the many nightmares he had involving Sam eventually seized and he liked to think that that had a lot to do with how they now could stay in the same room without trying to kill each other for over half an hour and how now he was old enough to know that, even though Sam was dangerous he was still smarter and maybe even stronger than her and that, in the end of the day, they were _close friends_.

Well, they were _friends_.

Sort of.

They didn't _hate_ each other. At least enough for her to throw him to wild black bears, of that he was sure (he couldn't be so sure about her setting fire to his underwear so he always wore noninflammable fabric, just to be safe, anyway).

The important thing, Freddie thought as he watched the ceiling of his new apartment in the middle of the night, is that he wasn't scared of Sam anymore.

"Oh, good, you're still up." His whole body tensed as he heard the familiar voice coming from somewhere inside his pitch dark room. He immediately disappeared under his Galaxy Wars sheets while his left hand looked under the bed for his baseball bat.

"Sam…!" He tried to sound calm but his voice failed him. "W-what are you doing here?" Ok, truth is; though he wasn't as scared of Sam as before, she had just appeared in his apartment at two in the morning for no apparent reason and if that wasn't life threatening then he had no idea what could be.

"Are you looking for this?" She said, pulling his covers completely and showing him she had his baseball bat on her own hands. Freddie fought a girlish scream that tried to escape his lips.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" The girlish scream won. "Sam, what are you _doing_ here?" He crawled and backed away from her. The lights were all out and the only thing he could see were the reflexes of the moonlight against her blond hair what would probably be a romantic thing if it wasn't for the fact that she was a terrifying person holding a potentially dangerous sports' apparatus.

"I needed to talk to you." She said shrugging. "Why are all the lights off? I can't see a thing."

"_At two in the morning_?" He said, sitting with his feet under his knees and checking his Pearphone. "Lewbert said I couldn't turn on the lights after ten p.m. or the rent price would go up; also, too much energy charge would probably set fire to the elevator engines."

"Ugh! Is that why it's so cold in here too?" She ignored his question about the time completely. "No heating system?"

"Nope, none."

"Great place." He could not see her face but her tone was very self-explanatory. He cocked an eyebrow at her:

"What's this, Sam, a whole new modality of insult? The Midnight Break In Verbal Offense?" He asked with sarcasm.

"That's a good idea you have there but no. I'm here to talk to you."

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, I was trying to sleep."

"Well, in case _you_ haven't noticed, I'm holding a baseball bat."

"Please sit down, my friend." He answered with a totally different tone, patting the foot of his bed. "You're more than welcome here."

"Good." She replied and started walking towards his bed with her hands stretched in front of her, trying to know where to go. Freddie didn't know exactly what happened but he heard a loud thud followed by a flow of dirty words from Sam's mouth. He couldn't help but to snicker but stopped abruptly as he felt the tip of his baseball bat touching his nose. "Turn…a…light…on…Benson." He heard she sibilate dangerously like a snake and, even in the dark, he could swear he saw the flames of hatred burning in her eyes.

"I'll…I'll connect my Pearpod to the stereo and turn it on…like this." He turned to his side and pressed some buttons. As the music started playing, the stereo's blue light filled the room. It was pale, ghostly and very faint but it was enough for them to see each other. "How's this?"

"Girly and soppy like anything else you listen to." Sam said replying the wrong question and snatching his Pearpod from his hands to check the screen. "Whenever we have to listen to your playlists, I feel like I'm watching a Meg Ryan movie."

Freddie rolled his eyes at her and reached out to take the Pearphone from her but she slapped his hand away. She lay down on his bed, the lower part of her body left out, knees folded and feet on the floor and he noticed she too was wearing pajamas.

"You're spending the night at Carly's?" He asked with his eyes on her fluffy boots

"Yup." She answered absently as a new song started playing. It was a slow song by a female singer. Freddie knew the song very well and why he had downloaded it. Sam had his Pearpod above her head and read all the song names. As this particular song started playing, her eyes opened a bit wider – or maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him – and she turned to him with a smirk that looked too much like a scowl:

"_Meant for Me_" She said in a high, mocking voice. "Benson, you're such a girl."

Freddie felt like answering Sam, especially now that she had let go of the bat but, for some reason, telling her that that song was the song he had had his first dance with Carly sounded too risky of a thing to do and he found himself lacking the courage to do so.

"Don't I have my own playlist on this thing?" Sam was moving from menu to menu. "I'm sure I made one."

"Yes, you did." Freddie answered tiredly. "Just check under "The Devil's Spawn Favorites"."

"Oh, how nice of you to not change the name I had chosen." She said with a smirk. Three seconds later, loud Ska music started playing and Sam stretched. "Greeeeat, _now_ we are talking!"

The stood there quietly for a while, Sam lazily moving her feet from side to side on a goofy two step and the Ska band's lead singer yelling curses and jokes. Freddie was surprised to realize he actually enjoyed the music; it truly made you want to move your feet lazily and it cheered him a bit. The lyrics weren't deep but they were sincere and direct. He never paid any attention to Sam's playlist before (they all had playlists on each other Pearpods so whenever they stopped to listen to music, there wouldn't be a lot of arguing) but it was funny how he was sure that, if anyone made him listen to that music and then asked him who had chosen it, he'd say Sam without thinking twice. He pointed this out to her and she said:

"Thanks, if I ever listen to soppy girly pop someday, I promise I'll try to be reminded of you." Freddie smile disappeared at once:

"_That's it_! We are listening to what I pick from now on." They struggled for a while, fighting for the Pearpod 'till they heard the Shuffle system sound. They stopped abruptly with their hands midair as another slow started. The singer had just started the lyrics (Something between the lines of "_Did I tell you I knew your_…", Sam noticed) when Freddie violently shook his Pearpod 'causing it to shuffle again.

"I, hm…Had enough of that song." He told her a little breathlessly. "Why don't we, hm…Go back to your playlist?" He said snatching the player from her hands at once and returning the configuration to play Sam's favorites.

"O…k." Sam answered, still a little surprised by his swift, unexpected overreaction. She rolled her eyes at him and, for the first time, noticed his sheets. "Oh, look! _Galaxy Wars_; I bet the girls are going to_ love_ your cool bachelor pad." Freddie felt his ears burning. "Oh, look! It's _Nub –Nub_!" Sam said pointing to one of the pictures on the sheet.

"It's _Nug-Nug_." Freddie corrected her. Sam raised her eyes and looked at him with a smile:

"You know what? I care so little, I can't even bring myself to pretend I care."

"Didn't you have something you wanted to talk to me?" Freddie said scratching his hair impatiently. "Or did you just really have an urge to appear in the middle of the night at my house and scar me emotionally for life even more than what you already did?" This wiped the smirk out of Sam's face and she scowled at him:

"Scar _you_ for life? Do you know how afraid I was to come here? What if I caught you sleeping just with your socks on? Or _worse_, using your sink "slash" bathroom?" She crossed her arms at him. "Now _that_ is what I call a real trauma!" Freddie's expression didn't change so she sighed, sat down straight in the same position as he was – feet under her knees – and faced him.

"So?" He said with the corner of his mouth corked to the side as it usually did when he doubted her. "Why are you here?" It was sort of a serious moment so when Sponge Bob's "The Fun Song" started playing it sort of ruined the mood, Sam thought, but she ignored the music anyway.

"I'm sorry I let Frothy pee on your History text book."

"_What?_ That was like…_ages_ ago." Freddie said, confused. Sam didn't seem to listen to anything he said as she continued:

"And I'm sorry I sold your favorite shirt to buy those hotdogs last month, and I'm sorry I threw toilet water in your strawberry juice last week…"

"You…threw toilet water on my…what?" Freddie felt like he was going to puke.

"No, wait. Was that Gibby's juice?" Sam seemed lost for a second. "Yeah, don't worry. It was Gibby's juice…" She reassured him by patting him on the knee. She bit her lower lip. "I did pour some cat pee on your shampoo a while ago though…"

"You _what_?"

Ignoring Freddie's reactions, Sam went on apologizing for all sorts of things. Some he didn't even remember she had done, some he didn't even _know_ she had done and some she only thought she had done to him but, in the end, the victim was someone else. The one sided conversation appeared to go on endlessly 'till Freddie finally managed to grasp Sam's attention by taking advantage of an intake of air to say:

"Sam, what are you doing?" She opened her mouth to go on but he held her wrist to get her attention. "_What – are – you – doing_?" he asked again, this time more slowly and making sure to underline every word. She looked at him for a second or so and then sighed heavily:

"I'm keeping a promise." She said finally. Before he could ask anything, she continued. "Remember that time you handcuffed me to Gibby?"

Both of Freddie's eyebrows went up at once as he was genuinely surprised. It was sort of their code, they never referred to their kiss as the "kiss" it was always something else that happened around that time like; "Remember that time we had an argument?" "Remember that time I put a fish in your locker?" it was never "Remember that time I went after you and we kissed?"; it was one of their many unsaid rules (right along with "The last rib is always Sam's" and "If you use Sam's full name, you're asking for a punch"). He was startled for a moment but nodded anyway, Sam looked a bit uncomfortable as she looked for the right words:

"Well, remember how I told you I'd apologize every year or so?" She said watching the light of the Pearpod screen attentively. Freddie's jaw dropped:

"And you decided that _today_, right _now_, at _two_ in the morning was the perfect time to do it?" He asked stunned:

"Hm, yeah. Ever since he got attacked, Spencer's been having very loud nightmares about Harmoo so it was not like I would get any sleep there or anything." She said, shrugging. "So I came here."

Freddie stared at her, his jaw still dropped, too angry for words. She looked up and studied his expression for a few seconds.

Then she laughed.

"This is _not_ funny, Puckett!"

"Yes, yes it kinda is!" She said, her hand covering her mouth as she tried to stop laughing. "If you could only see your face right now!"

He shook his head crossly at her:

"You're unbelievable!" He told her. "That's so selfish, I can't even…_argh_!" He tried standing up but she held him down and since she was something like the strongest woman on Earth, he fell back down immediately.

"Listen to me!" She said seriously this time. Freddie swallowed nervously at the change on her tone.

"Ok." His voice croaked and she let go of him, holding her legs and resting her chin on her knees:

"And I'm really sorry about the whole thing with your mother too."

"Uh?" Freddie was confused again; he honestly suspected if he'd ever understand Sam.

"You know, the other day, during the show…When I got the camera and recorded that whole asparagus thing…"

"Are you honestly feeling bad about that?" He said, almost chuckling. "That was nothing. It was just you and Carly making fun of me, I wasn't hurt at all." He said.

"Like I care if you were ever hurt." Sam said with a scowl. "It's about this here that I'm talking about." She gestured towards the place around them.

"_My apartment_?" He asked. "What's wrong with it?"

"What's _not_ wrong with it, Frieda?" Sam answered. "Why did you move here?"

Finally, Freddie understood the whole point of the conversation; he just couldn't really believe _that_ was the point.

"You think I moved out because of the iCarly thing?" He smiled. "Sam, you and Carly had nothing to do with it. You've met my mother; you know this was coming for a long time now. She's crazy!" Sam muttered something in reply to this. He approached his ear from her face and said: "Sorry, I didn't really get that. Could you repeat?"

Sam grabbed his ear and brought it to her mouth where she yelled:

"I SAID YOU SHOULD STOP BEING SO STUPID AND JUST GO BACK TO YOUR MOTHER!"

Freddie flinched and as he rubbed his ear still confused both by the blow to his tympanums and the information he asked:

"What?" He was back to feeling stupid. "Why would you ever say that? You are the one who keeps telling me my mother is crazy and that I should man up and stuff like that! What are you on about?"

Sam sighed:

"I know, Freducation, I know." She studied the walls of the place. "Usually, I'd be the first to cheer you for what you did, don't get me wrong, really, I haven't thought this good of you since the whole "fake ID to get inside Dingo Studios" thing and all but, no matter how much I enjoy Feisty Freddie…" Someone must have pressed the elevator button then 'cause a loud noise made the two of them wince. "Well, point made." Sam said pointing to the engines on the corner.

"I know the place isn't good, Sam, but it's what I can afford right now." Sam slapped him. Really hard. He watched her, his expression torn between absolutely angry and completely puzzled. "Ok, there's no way you can say this was somehow called for!"

"It wasn't." She said. "But you deserved it anyway." She pouted her lips. "It doesn't matter what you can or can't afford, Fredward. You should be with your psycho mother."

"Give me _one_ good reason. A reason good enough for me to ignore all the years of humiliation and antibacterial underwear she put me through!"

"You're a mamma's boy."

"I said a _good_ one." He said angrily. Sam stretched and yawned:

"Ok, here's a list: First, this place has no heating, no bathroom and, worst of all, no fridge. Second, your whole life is your tech toys; here you can't even keep the lights on…"

"Ok, but…"

"Third, do you think living alone is easy? I spend most of my time alone and let me tell you something shocking about reality, kiddo: clothes don't wash themselves and neither do your bed sheets."

"Sam, you're the last person who can talk to me about laziness and easy life, you know that, right?"

Sam was completely ignoring him:

"But the most important thing is that you're acting dumb."

"And why is that?"

"Well, I suppose it's because you're you and you can't help it."

"_Sam…"_

"_Man!_ Do I have to explain everything to you?" She said impatiently. "Look, if you want your mother to change with you, then you face her; what you're doing here, moving out like this, you're just running away."

"Is that so?" He said skeptically, his voice all sarcasm. "And what do you, all knowing guru, suggest I do?"

"Bribery."

"_Bribery_?"

"Yeah, you know, kinda like blackmail but a little more PG- 13."

"It figures "Bribery" would be one of the few big words you'd know the meaning of…" Freddie said under his breath. "I mean, what do you suggest I _bribe_ her with?"

"With _this_!" She slapped his face back and forth like she so often did. "We are teenagers, Fredduccini, if we can't get what we want by selling our affection to our insecure parents then we have _nothing_!" She stood up from his bed and moved her neck from side to side, stretching. "Well, my job here is done; feels good to do a good deed every once in a while!" She turned around to leave but Freddie stopped her:

"Wait a minute there, Puckett. How do you suggest I sell my affection?" Sam turned on her heels and stared at Freddie with her lower lip pouted in a funny way:

"I don't know, Nub. I don't even see why anyone would ever want to buy your affection…" He made a face at her and she left out a heavy breath. "I don't know, ok? Whatever chiz you want her to give you; privacy, money, a Russian Internet wife…When she shows up again, just…talk to her; tell her you miss her and all but there's a limit to everything. _Face her_."

"How do you even _know_ these things?"

"_Everyone_ knows, Freduardo!" Sam beamed. "You were just left out from the fun because your mommy raised you to be a good person."

That triggered something inside Freddie; his guts turned in a sudden burning anger:

"There you go again saying I'm a mamma's boy."

"You _are _a mamma's boy."

"I'm not a…"

"It's ok to be a mamma's boy, Freddie." Sam interrupted him. "I mean, it's not ok; it's very uncool and when you say stuff like: "My mom is my hero", I can really get a vision of you, in a few years in a house, alone, surrounded only by tech toys and cats…but…that's what you are, you know? Like I'm a delinquent and Carly is a bit of a sissy." Freddie chuckled and Sam crossed his arms at him, smirking:

"All I'm saying," Sam proceeded. "Is that there are bad things about what we all are but that we should overcome them the right way."

"And how can you tell I'm not doing things the right way?" He asked, feeling very defiantly.

"Dude, your sink is your toilet."

"Ok, I suppose you have a point." He bit the inside of his mouth and Sam put a hand on his shoulder:

"Damn right I do! Dude, this place is not you and, face it, Benson, you'll die in here; I'm much more _macho_ than you will ever be and _I'm_ disgusted!"

"Hey!" He protested. "I'm just as _macho_ as you are…And, you know what?" He waved her hand off his shoulder. "I can absolutely survive living in this apartment. I'll get a part time job and pay for everything, I'll buy a fridge and maybe even a toilet, now, if you excuse me, I'm gonna ask you to leave."

At first, Freddie felt hesitant about his own words; deep down, he knew he was still too afraid of Sam and what she could do to his underwear so he was very surprised when she just smiled and walked towards the door and away from his Pearpod's light:

"Sure." Her now bodiless voice answered from the dark. "If you think you can spend the night here alone and live here for the rest of your life that, I suppose, will last around three weeks, then good luck. I'm going back to the Shay's." He heard the sound of the door closing behind her and breathed in and out slowly before turning off his Pearpod.

Everything went silent and dark at once and all he could listen to were his heartbeats and the wind outside crashing against his windows loudly. Sure, the place could be a bit scary but he was a man now and he'd be able to…His door clicked open:

"You want me to walk you to the Shay's apartment or what?"

"_Thank you_, Sam!" He said standing up and grabbing a coat and a pillow.

As they walked down the stairs, Freddie stared at Sam's messy bed hair and a question came to his mind:

"Hey, Sam, why did you defend my mom?"

"I don't recall ever defending your mother, Benson. I don't stand up for psychopaths." He raised an eyebrow at her. "Well, at least not for psychos who are not related to me by blood, alright?" He chuckled and she rolled her eyes, finally saying:

"I don't know, I think, sometimes, I can relate to your mom." Freddie choked on his own saliva:

"Are you under some experimental medication or something, Sam?" She punched him:

"No, I'm not. Though I can see where you're coming from." She skipped the three last steps from the stairs with a jump and turned around to face Freddie:

"You know how earlier today you and Carly were all worked up over me being late?"

"Sure."

"Can you imagine how that would have felt horrible if the person who had gone missing was someone you actually cared about like, I don't know, Carly or something?"

"Don't be silly, I worry about you too, I…" He stopped mid-sentence, finally absorbing the information. "Oh – my – Gosh. I would have freaked out so bad!"

"Yup." Sam said with a faint smile. "I thought about this today as I kidnapped the cat. It made me think about Frothy and how sad I'd be if anything bad happened to him…" Freddie wondered what Sam considered to be a bad thing since Frothy had already gone through all sorts of bad experiences but he didn't voice his questions. "And, although your mom is a big time loony, she was nice to me a couple of times before; feeding me and stuff and sometimes, maybe, she's just not very good at expressing her love, you know? At this I can relate to her."

"Oh like…As much as my mom gives me tick baths; you push guys from trees, right?"

"Yes!" Sam said with a final smile as they arrived at the Shay's door. "All in the name of love!" She shook her fist in the air dramatically. "Well, I'm off."

"Aren't you getting in?" He asked.

"Of course I am but, when I left, Spencer was sleeping on the couch so, as asking to spend the night will already be too humiliating – even for you – I'll just break into Carly's bedroom through the fire escape." She did a few things to the door's locker and sighed: "Well, I've opened the door, feel free to knock if you wanna be polite, I'm gonna go find my way…" Freddie smiled as he watched Sam walk away from him but before she reached the end of the hallway, she turned around and said:

"Oh, and by the way, Freddork…" He looked at her just to encounter an expression of mockery on her face. "Keeping the song you were listening to during your first kiss on your mp3 player…That's the sissiest thing to do like…_ever_." And, just like that, she walked away with her hands in the back of her head. Freddie felt his face getting warmer until something hit him.

Maybe it was a bit girly to keep the song, he considered, but Sam recognized it just from the first couple of notes, didn't she?

Maybe, sometimes, she could relate to more Bensons than just his mother, after all. And with a final smile, he opened the door in front of him.

**A/N: **_I'm too lazy to correct any typos right now and, if I'm lucky, I didn't misspell the pearpod, pearphone stuff. Don't know about this chapter being funny at all, actually, right now, I have no idea what I just wrote but, hopefully, the fluffiness will make up for the lack of jokes and all that. Please review 'cause your nice feedback is what keep the new stories popping up every week! :D _


	6. iBoys

**iLoathe**** You**

**A/N: **_I was having some trouble finishing a very fluff filled one shot set during iSYL (believe it or not); but while the muses escaped me, I had a vision of the dialogue I used for this story and decided this one was easier to finish and went for it – It turns out it wasn't as easy as I had thought and this one is my least favorite one shot so far. However, if you're into Spencer, you might enjoy getting a chapter focused on him for a change, right? _

**iBoys (and the girls who broke their hearts)**

**Summary: **_Spencer knew he was not known for his cleverness or for how wise he was so, as he watched Freddie - the closest thing he had to a baby brother - he'd be proud of how intelligent the boy was. However, it was funny how just the simple fact of being older, made him know just when Freddie was being plain stupid and made him sure that it was his task to give the boy a piece of his mind. Set right after iWas a Pageant Girl._

The clock on his Pearphone had showed 2:30 am; he remembered that but only vaguely. He had stared at Spencer with narrowed eyes before trying hesitantly:

"Am I…a fruit cube?" Everything went really quiet for a while and then, Spencer's eyes widened in realization:

"Yes, Freddie. Yes, you are a fruit cube." He said with a smile. Freddie immediately stood up from his chair and went for an Olympic run around the kitchen, his arms in the air; shouting words of bliss. He'd celebrate a lot more if Spencer hadn't said. "What about me, Freddie, am I a squash?"

Freddie stopped running immediately and fell down on his chair miserably, his head on his hands:

"No, Spencer, you're not a squash." They had agreed not to stop until _both _of them had their answers right so Freddie took a deep breath and tried to keep himself awake which was a hard task since he had unavoidably grown used to the bed time he'd been forced to follow most of his life and it was already hours past it.

The clock now marked minutes past 4 am and all Spencer new for sure was that he couldn't fly, couldn't swim and that he wasn't neither a hobo covered in cheese, nor a spider monkey and - no matter for how long he had insisted on that one - he was also not a magical pair of rollerblades. As they both grew tired the time between each question seemed to last days and, although Freddie had indeed tried his best to stay awake, before he couldn't even notice, his head was already resting on the wooden table, his eyelids closing heavily.

Spencer didn't last much after him, collapsing right after his "Am I a Fairy Light?" question went unanswered. Sleeping, however, might have done his brain some good because, as the first pink ray light from the faint rising sun hit him on the face, his eyes opened wide at once and he shouted with all his lungs:

"I AM TOOTHPASTE!" He was glowing with pride as he yelled, waking Freddie just in time to save him from being eaten alive by Sam (lately he had been having this weird recurring dream in which Sam tried to eat pieces of him from a bucket of fried chicken):

"What?" He asked Spencer, still overwhelmed by the whole thing, unable to understand the facts happening around him:

"I AM TOOTHPASTE!" He shouted again, this time in Freddie's ear and shaking him by the shoulders violently - as if he thought yelling wasn't effective enough to get his attention. "I finally know what I am!" he explained, his voice filled with satisfaction and gloating. "I'm toothpaste!" His gaze looked lost for a second and then he looked back at Freddie and spoke again, a little less confident this time. "Well, either that or Canadian bacon but I'm pretty sure is one of these two!"

Freddie beamed:

"You're toothpaste."

"YES!" Spencer celebrated by standing up and raising his arms- much like Freddie. "Take that, you stupid game! Spencer Shay has finally outsmarted you!" Spencer was so happy, Freddie decided not to point out that outsmarting a bunch of flashcards wasn't exactly that big of a deal, Carly's brother finally calmed down and sat back on his chair saying:

"Good, I can finally sleep peacefully now. I'll just close my eyes and…" He was starting to rest his head down on the table again when his eyes popped open and he said to no one in particular as if he had just realized it for the first time: "I'm starving."

As if warned by Spencer's comment, Freddie's stomach turned inside him and made noises you'd only expect from the echo inside giant caves:

"Me too." He concluded. "We ended up skipping dinner last night."

"Oh, you're right!" Spencer smacked his forehead. "I'll check the fridge for something."

"Good luck with that, didn't Sam spend the night here as well?" Freddie said rolling his eyes and grabbing his phone to check for messages. His mom was probably flipping right now. "Wow, that's weird."

"What?" Spencer asked, his voice muffled due to his head being inside the fridge.

"My mom, she didn't send me any messages. I just have this one new message from Sam that says "A good Benson is a dead Benson.""

"Ouch. Did you do something to annoy her?"

"Not really, is not like she doesn't do that normally. Still, my mom hasn't even called once…" Spencer sat down next to Freddie with a giant bowl of cold chili:

"Well, I have a secret hideout for when Sam comes over so I was able to save this here…" He stared at Freddie's concerned expression. "Are you sure your mom didn't call? I think I saw Sam grabbing your phone yesterday night right after I yelled we wouldn't leave 'till I had gotten everything right."

"_She did?"_ Freddie asked, visibly alarmed. "That's not good, Spence, God knows what she told my mom. I'll check the "sent messages" folder!" To his surprise, all Freddie found on the folder was a message from himself to his mom from around midnight that said:

"_Hey, mom, Spencer and I didn't get along with our dates because we are both such losers, that all girls became allergic to us. So, the two of us will spend the night here at the Shay's apartment playing a children's game to distract our minds from the fact that we will never have girlfriends, ok? Don't worry, I'll apply my ointment and brush my teeth 18 times like you like me to. Oh and Sam won the beauty pageant she went today, how cool is that?" _

His jaw dropped and he immediately looked into his income folder to check for his mother's answer; there was no way she could have possibly believed that message came from him:

"_Oh, dear, I hope you and Spencer have a nice night playing games (I hope they don't involve anything that might refer to violent competition like those awful dominos I hate so much), and tell Spencer that he shouldn't worry about finding a girlfriend; I'm sure he'd be a fine young man if he only cut that girlish hair of his and applied all that free time he uses for art into a real job. As for you, you already have your mommy's love; you don't need any other woman. We can be together the two of us forever! Don't forget to brush your teeth all the 18 times and, please, please, if the the ointment feels a little itchy, don't scratch it! "A boy with scars is a boy behind the bars!" And Sam won a pageant? I'm utterly surprised by this; I pity the judges she spanked to get that trophy!" _

Now he sort of understood why Sam had sent that message to him after all. He took the chili Spencer was offering him and sighed tiredly.

"What did the messages say?" He asked as he saw Freddie's expression.

"You don't want to know." He said but read them out loud anyway.

"I'm not going to cut my girlish hair!" Spencer said, offended. "I mean, I'm not going to cut my hair, my masculine hair that is!" Freddie chuckled as Spencer pouted his lips as a little kid. "Besides, I'm perfectly happy with my love life, didn't we just have a date last night?"

"Uh, Spencer…I'm not sure our date went that well last night."

"What do you mean? We had tons of fun playing the game; we didn't even go out climbing and…" His phone vibrated on the kitchen's island and he stretched his arm to grab it. "You see? I'm sure it's the girls asking for a second date and…" His expression changed as he laid eyes on the screen of his phone.

"What does it say?"

"Oh…nothing…" He answered sheepishly, avoiding to look Freddie in the eye. Freddie raised an eyebrow at him:

"Spence?"

"It says "I hope you die." ok?" He burst. "I can't believe this! Whenever I find a perfectly good female, I ruin everything! Your mother and Sam are right: I'll die alone!" Spencer's whining was getting to Freddie more than what he had thought it would, so, he said bitterly:

"You think _you_ should be sad you'll die alone?" He asked. "I will die with _my mom_!" Spencer patted Freddie's back:

"I pity you, kid."

"You ought to." He answered, chewing sadly on his chili. "I have no luck whatsoever with this love deal. I mean, I was talking about this just the other day with Sa…" He stopped mid-sentence.

"With Sa…?"

"Hm, Salim. He's a friend of mine."

"You've got a friend named Salim?"

"He's from Texas."

"Uh…right."

"Anyway, I was talking about this with Sa…lim, and _he_ told me I was overreacting but, I don't know, Spencer, don't you ever feel like time is passing by and everyone around you is finding happiness while you're left behind alone, like you are not even worth their attention, like you don't deserve appreciation…" Spencer gave him a knowing smile:

"You're still upset about Carls, uh?" Freddie blushed and he was suddenly obviously uncomfortable. He knew he could talk to Spencer about anything but talking about Carly had always seemed wrong since he was her older brother and stuff like that.

"Yeah…" He finally gathered enough. "It's just that today was my first date after the taco truck incident and…"

"You were hoping she'd say something?"

"Or _show_ something; _anything_, really, back when we were together…" And Freddie suddenly felt like that had been ages ago. "She wouldn't let anyone near me and today, she didn't even mind I had a date…" he sighed, staring at the bowl of chili. "I guess that really does mean she didn't like me from the start, doesn't it?"

Freddie searched Spencer's face for some sort of answer; talking to the brother of the girl you like was like using cheats for a video game. If someone knew Carly, that person would be Spencer and he was about to tell Freddie what he thought Carly was feeling. Whatever it was that he had to say, Freddie was sure it'd be useful and honest:

"Hey, Freddio, have I ever told you about the summer I spent with Socko's uncle Clay?"

Ok, that was far from useful.

"Look, Spencer, if you just don't want to have this conversation, I a completely understand and…" He realized something and stopped mid-sentence. "Wait, what does Socko's uncle do for a living?"

"He works with ceramics." Spencer said matter-of-factly.

"_Of course_ he does." Freddie rolled his eyes and smiled focusing on his dinner slash breakfast again; Socko's family always seemed to choose their career based on their names.

"Anyway," Spencer said crossing his legs and eating from his own bowl so hungrily the chili was starting to drip from his chin like it often did on their "Baby Spencer" sketches. "The summer I spent with Socko's family, was the summer of love…" Freddie was always amazed by how a simple sentence from Spencer could sound so, so wrong.

"Uh, Spencer, you really don't have to force a new subject. I meant it when I said we could just skip the Carly conversation, really, I…"

"HUSH!" Spencer raised his hand and put it in front of Freddie's face, just inches away from touching him in an act that was meant to shut him up. "I'm about to tell you a very, very meaningful, heartfelt story from my youth and you're going to listen to it…And you're going to _learn_."

Freddie was so confused by Spencer's attitude that he looked sideways in search of a hidden camera (Sam had done that before; it _was_ a possibility) but Spencer still looked pretty serious about the story (or at least as serious as Spencer could manage to look) and Freddie concluded it wouldn't hurt to just listen to the story at once:

"So, is it going to have a moral or something?"

"More than a moral, Freddie." Spencer said dramatically though the chili running down his chin ruined the moment. "It'll have… a _lesson_."

"Aren't those like…the same thing?"

"No; there's a difference: stories about people have lessons, stories about _talking animals_ have morals." No wonder he dropped law school, Freddie thought to himself. "Anyway…" Spencer finally wiped the food from his face. "I was fourteen and had just been forbidden to go back to summer camp…"

"Why?"

"This is not a story I'd like to talk about." He said suddenly really gloomy.

"Ok."

"As I was saying, I had just been forbidden to go to summer camp and that really got me down so Socko, being the good friend he is, invited me to spend the summer in Fresno with his uncle Clay and his aunt Piper."

"Is she a plumber?" Freddie asked with a smirk. Spencer's eyebrows rose:

"No, of course not." He said as if that was the most absurd idea ever. "She made pies."

"Oh."

"So, the thing you need to know is that Clay was a very talented artist, so, the reason Socko invited me in the first place was because his uncle often taught younger artists some techniques so he thought I'd really enjoy the trip. Also, back then, I was really in love with a girl from our school that wouldn't even look at out direction." Spencer's expression turned dreamy and nostalgic all of a sudden. "I had been in love with her for the last three years: she had beautiful black hair and her face was so round and white, it was like seeing a perfect specimen of brie cheese." Leave to Spencer to find Brie cheese attractive, Freddie thought. "Her name was F. G. and she was our school's most talented sculptor."

"Effigy? Her name was Effigy and she was a sculptor? How appropriate."

"No, no, not Effigy - _F. G._ -Those were her initials!" Spencer corrected him. "Her real name was Futoula Gracie."

Freddie couldn't help making a face:

"You liked a girl named Fotoula?"

"You have a friend named Salim, don't you?"

"_Who?"_ Freddie remembered what Spencer was talking about. "Oh, yes, right. _Salim_. My friend from Texas." He tried to sound convincible; luckily for him, Spencer wasn't exactly quick-witted:

"Anyway, Socko insisted on me going there because his uncle had invited F.G. and she had accepted! I still couldn't believe just how lucky I was, suddenly, I didn't even mind not going to camp anymore. That's how much I loved Futoula."

Freddie chuckled:

"Futoula…" He said under his breath, gagging as he did so.

"_Anyway…" _Spencer openly ignored his mockery. "Although I was more than willing to get there and finally spend some time with the girl I liked so much, I hadn't considered the one down side; Lotta."

"Who?"

"Lotta; she's Socko's cousin. Her real name is Charlotte but everyone calls her Lotta."

"And what does Lotta do?" You know, Freddie had to admit he actually enjoyed knowing how far Socko's family could go with their professional choices. Lotta was an unusual name, there was no way she could work with Lotteries…or could she?

"Lotta didn't have a specific job; she was always an arrogant overachiever. Always looking down on me and complaining about how I had no ambition in life and that's why I took art classes instead of finding a part- time job and being…" He swallowed his own saliva bitterly as if the next words were just too hard for him to pronounce. "_Responsible and mature."_

"So Lotta didn't do anything?" That was surprising.

"No, no. Lotta had at least three part-time jobs; she did a lott'a things."

Unbelievable, it was just _unbelievable_. As Freddie remained in shock; his jaw hanging in surprise, Spencer went on:

"Now, the moment I saw Lotta was going to be with us the whole Summer, I started reconsidering whether spending summer with Futoula learning art was worth having to be around Lotta all the time. And that's how much I disliked Lotta."

"I see…"

"Anyway, art classes were amazing; I decided I wanted to be a sculptor that summer, I tell you. I knew I wanted to work with art at some point in my life but I still had no idea how much I loved sculpting, you know? I loved getting my clothes dirty and painting cool stuff and I even got to spend time with F.G. who sat right next to me during our Arts and Crafts activities with Socko's uncle." The story was taking so long, Freddie was starting to wonder whether Spencer remembered he had a lesson to pass with it or not. "As summer went by, I could now easily talk to F.G.; we'd sculpt together every now and then, Socko said we looked so nice together, he could almost see us doing ceramics together like that couple from that movie about that guy that dies and comes back, you know?"

"Uh…yes?" Freddie tried to erase the images from his mind.

"So, before I could realize, I was very close friends with Futoula; we were often seen together, having ice cream, eating Auntie Piper's pies…I decided it was time to finally declare my deep appreciation towards her." Spencer made a pause for suspense but Freddie didn't even acknowledge that so he just sighed and went on. "Well, thing is, the day I decided I'd tell her everything I had been keeping to myself all those years…Was the day Lotta told me she liked me."

"_What?" _ Freddie was just chewing on a mouthful with chili but the information came so unexpectedly he accidentally spilled some of it. "Didn't you just say Lotta hated you?"

"And I honestly thought she did so, when she declared her feelings, I just thought she was trying to make my life miserable by, I don't know, pulling a prank or something, you know?" Freddie nodded, he understood it too well. "So I just ditched her off with a wave and a laugh and told her I liked someone else; she just stood there – I still remember the expression on her face – as if she was about to cry."

"You made her cry?"

"No, not really. When I realized what I had done, I tried consoling her but she was already angry and she kicked me in places that really shouldn't be kicked."

"Ouch." Freddie flinched.

"You think that was bad? You should see what happened to me after she rubbed poison ivy in my toilet paper." Spencer shuddered with the memory. "Now _that_ is a bad experience to relive."

"I told Socko about Lotta's feelings and he just laughed at me said I was the only one who didn't know; that she was being pretty obvious about it. At first I didn't believe him, but then I realized that well, I am pretty stupid after all, right?" Freddie nodded in agreement. "And although she did make my life pretty miserable all the time she did send me Valentine's Day cards every year and she was always bringing me lunch she had cooked and she even did little sculptures with the food…"

"Spencer, how did you even think she didn't like you?" Sometimes, Spencer was denser than a block of concrete, really, but that was a bit too much.

"Oh, Freddie, teenage boys are all stupid." He then made a pause staring at Freddie. "Uh…no offense."

"Whatever." He shrugged. "What about F.G.?"

"Well, after Lotta made sure I had the worst summer of my life; I didn't feel like telling F.G. about what I felt would make my life any easier, so I ended up not telling her."

"Ow."

"And then, F.G. found herself a boyfriend which made me pretty devastated."

"Aw, Spencer…" Freddie was starting to relate to the story.

"No, kiddo, I'm far from the end yet." Spencer waved Freddie's pity off. "So as I followed F.G. and her new boyfriend around town…"

"You _stalked_ them?"

"I didn't _stalk_ them!" Spencer answered sounding offended. "I just followed them from a safe, yet close enough so I could hear what they said, distance and hid behind bushes if I thought they could see me."

"Yeah, two completely different things." Freddie rolled his eyes; but he supposed he wasn't one to talk after all.

"One day I _followed_ them inside a ceramic store and you know what I found?" He didn't wait for Freddie's answer. "A mug shaped like a t-rex!"

"How can that _possibly_ be relevant to the story, Spencer?"

"It is!" Spencer insisted. "I decided I just _had_ to buy that mug so I grabbed it and went to the counter where they told me - brace yourself, kid - the mug wasn't for sale!"

The story was turning out to be worse than George, the Bra ghost tales.

"Oh, wow." Freddie said suppressing a yawn.

"And you know why it wasn't for sale?" Spencer didn't pay attention to Freddie's expression at all, he acted as it the story had reached its climax. "Because it was a piece made by the daughter of the owner! Now guess who the owner was!" He poked Freddie's arms a hundred times.

"I don't know…"

"C'mon, just think!"

"Uncle Clay?"

"YES!"

"So what?"

"What you mean so what?"

"What's so important about the store belonging to Socko's uncle?"

"Well, because the mug I had loved so much was done by his daughter."

"Ok and who's she?"

"What you mean who's she? Haven't I told you Lotta was Clay's daughter?"

"No, not really."

"Oh, I suppose that sort of ruined the surprise then." Spencer pouted his lips. "Well, it turns out that Lotta was also a sculptor! I suppose I should have guessed since she was Clay's child and she was always sculpting the food she brought me…"

Spencer truly wasn't a quick-witted person.

"So I realized I had had feelings for Lotta all along."

"Because of a mug?"

"Not _a_ mug; _the_ mug. She called it the _Mugosaurus_!" Spencer said that with the same tone a mother talks about her child. "And it wasn't the mug, really, I didn't realize back then, Freddio, but I did like Lotta a lot more than I had ever liked F.G." Spencer's tone was really serious now and Freddie understood that was the part he really needed to pay attention to. "That day, I left the store to find Lotta but F.G. stopped me; she said she had noticed me walking around her lately and she was wondering whether I liked her or not because…She liked me back."

"And what did you do?" Freddie hated Spencer that moment. He didn't know he liked a girl that had liked him all along and, as if that wasn't enough, the girl he had liked since the start _also_ liked him back – how dare he complain about his love life?

"I did what I thought I wanted; I told her I liked her back. I mean, I had just realized I might have feelings for Lotta but I was sure I liked Futoula for ages; picking the right thing, the comfortable things seemed like the smart thing to do back then, you know?" Freddie nodded – it was an unexpectedly smart move from Spencer who so often acted so riskily. "But it was the stupidest thing I could do."

"_What_?"

"F.G. dumped her boyfriend for me and we spent the rest of summer together and I thought I was having the time of my life 'till we kissed."

"She was a bad kisser?"

"Nah, she was alright; good lip work and all that but; the first time I kissed her it felt glorious; like I had just won the best prize ever, you know? But that was it."

"Uh?" Freddie was about to give up understanding.

"You know how awesome you felt when you first found out what you were in the game last night?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Now, imagine you didn't find it hard to discover who you were, imagine if you won the game like a hundred times in a row…Would it still feel as glorious?"

"I guess it wouldn't." Freddie shrugged.

"That was what happened to me as time went by and I kept kissing Futoula; what I first thought were fireworks because I loved her were just victory fireworks. The sort of feeling you get after you waited a long time for something."

Freddie understood Spencer's metaphor at once:

"I'm not sure how much I can tell you about kissing your sister but it had nothing to do with feeling victorious…"

"I'm not having this conversation." Spencer cut him. "What I'm saying is that, sometimes, we keep love inside us thinking it will last forever because we are dealing with it everyday as if it was a pet we take care of but what we don't realize is that keeping the love inside does not stop it from fading. To make love a real thing, you're supposed to let it out, every day on your own way, because love is not something that belongs to us – love belongs with the people we love." Spencer made a pause, thinking about what he had just said. "Wow, that was deep, I'll grab some pen and paper to write it down and send it to Mick."

"Mick?"

"Socko's brother-in-law. He has a band."

Spencer stood up and started browsing for pen and paper hurriedly and Freddie tried to understand what he had just told him. It was true he had been with Carly for only a little a while but he had felt more than glorious or victorious…He was happy, genuinely happy; he had liked Carly since ever and being with her seemed right, safe…_simple_. He was sure he had been in love with her and that he was happy with her; if he had accidentally gotten over her in the past he would have realized; he wasn't like Spencer; Spencer was slow. A great guy and all but slow nevertheless.

"You know, Freddie," Spencer's voice came from somewhere under the sink before he popped up with a pen and a paper on his hands. "Love is not supposed to be simple; it's like art, the one rule is that there are no rules. Trying to organize things, choose the easy way it's not the good thing; there's no logic in love."

"Are you trying to tell me to give up on Carly?" Freddie asked sadly and Spencer patted him on the shoulder:

"No, I'm telling you to pay attention." He started writing down his previous thoughts but he didn't seem to remember them. "You're still young and silly and, if you don't open your eyes right now, you'll let things trick you. And, take the advice from someone who's been there before, you do not want that. There's no such thing as meant to be, love just happens." Spencer bit the tip of his pencil. "I'm writing this one down as well!"

Freddie sighed, he now was sure Spencer was telling him to give up on Carly and move on 'cause she didn't like him at all.

"Whatever happened to Lotta?" He asked, hoping to change the subject back into lighter topics.

"I dumped F. G. by the end of the summer." Spencer answered darkly. "And told Lotta how I felt."

"And?"

"And she took me out on a date to her father's ceramics store." Yes, Freddie hated Spencer.

"And she threw the mugosaurus at me, hurting my forehead and breaking it. She then insulted me using so many different words in so many different languages I can hardly remember."

"Ouch." Ok, maybe Spencer wasn't so lucky after all.

"She said she'd rather die than be with someone who couldn't make a simple decision to save his life if necessary." Spencer sighed and sat back down next to Freddie. "She then got a really weird voice and said some words in a language I didn't know, gesturing towards me. Socko says her mother comes from a part of the family that was related to gypsies and that she threw a curse at me."

"Are you for real?"

"I don't know if that was true, what I _do_ know is that that summer was also the first time I accidentally set fire to something." Freddie's eyes widened in surprise but he decided he didn't want to believe in that part – it was too much for his sanity:

"Well, then it's a good thing you and Lotta didn't work out, right? She was insane." To Freddie's surprise, Spencer just smiled sadly at him and said:

"You think so?" He sighed. "I see Lotta at least once a year during Socko's big Christmas feast and nowadays she's a successful business woman. Lotta and her half sister, Maggie run a magazine together. She smiles and waves at me politely like the mature person she is."

"And what do you do?"

"I run and hide in the bathroom to cry a little." Spencer said pouting his lips. "Socko says I'm being a big baby; well I _am_ a big baby. That's what makes me a tormented artist!"

Freddie sighed and Spencer smiled at him:

"Dude, honestly, you say you like Carly since forever, right? Have you ever liked anyone else? I mean, you suffer and you say you're used to it but, haven't you had other dates? Other girlfriends?"

"Sort of." Freddie answered, his ears turning red.

"Well, did any of these girls made you blush, made you suffer?" Freddie considered whether or not Sam counted as a date/girlfriend since he had kissed her and she _did_ make him suffer all the time. "I think, Freddie, that maybe you just truly never been in love for sure. I mean, I'm sure you love Carly and that you like Carly as well but those two are two separate feelings, you know? The way you love Carly and the way you want to be with Carly are two separated things; and maybe, because you never considered the possibility of liking someone else, so you never got to know the many different ways to love someone." Spencer said those things without looking at Freddie, writing it all down on the little notepad he had gotten under the sink. "I mean, now that you've been with Carly once, how come you were still able to go out with Leslie today? Don't you think that maybe your feelings aren't as strong as they were when you were younger?"

"Spencer, you threw a tantrum! I had to accept going on the double date with you!" Freddie protested but Spencer smiled:

"I'm not going to insist, kiddo. I just think you're ignoring the facts, really. I told you, didn't I? That there's no logic to love."

"Yeah but if there's no such thing as a love that lasts after you keep it inside all the time and that no love is "meant to be" then why do you still suffer whenever you see Lotta?"

"Because Lotta and I are a different case."

"How?" Freddie raised an eyebrow.

"She's my _princess charming_, ok?"

Freddie was going to make a clever, sarcastic remark to this but his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the elevator. Spencer seemed alarmed:

"Holy Mexican! It's Sam! Hide the chili!" he said pushing the bowl of chili back and forth, not sure where to place it. He ran around the kitchen, juggling with the bowls the two of them used but it was too late; Sam was already there, staring at them with narrowed eyes. Her hair was a jungle of golden curls under a crown – Freddie didn't exactly know why she was still wearing it but knew it wasn't wise to ask – and she looked really angry even in her sleepy state:

"I knew it. Mama can smell her chili from miles away; where were you hiding this, Spencer?" Spencer went for a bold move and answered her:

"In my secret hideout; the one where I keep all the stuff I don't want you to eat." He ended up sounding like a stubborn five year old rather than a grown man and Sam just grabbed him by the collar:

"You were hiding _food_ from _me_?" Spencer broke under the pressure:

"Sorry, sorry! Here, take the chili is all yours! You can have it all!"

"Good boy." She said grabbing the chili and a big spoon from the drawer and sitting on the table with Freddie.

"Is she even awake?" Spencer asked Freddie approaching Sam silently as she ate the chili in robotic moves. Freddie shook his head unable to take his eyes from the scene in front of him:

"I don't know. I'm sure she can eat while sleeping though, it sounds like her."

"Yes, Sam is one unusual kid." Spencer said right before he got hit on the eye with chili. "Ouch, what was that for?"

"It's Miss Teen Seattle for you guys!" She said pointing to her crown – she still acted as if she was half asleep though. "I'm a _princess_!"

"Sure…" Freddie agreed ironically before turning and whispering to Spencer. "Princess Puckett, leader of all barbarians!" They both snickered but soon got hit in the eye by Sam's chili again.

"I heard that, ok?" She said. "You guys are so lame; playing a stupid game all night, forgetting to pick me and Carly up, hiding chili from me…I hate you all. No wonder you'll both die single!"

"Hey" Freddie protested. "Spencer and I are both young and we will find love someday, I'm sure!"

"Young? Spencer is almost thirty, dude, he's already passing the age when you are still allowed to make out!" Next to Freddie, Spencer whined. "Oh, face it, Spencer, your life has already jumped over the shark."

"She's being mean to me, Freddie!" Spencer said in his baby voice pointing to Sam. Freddie rolled his eyes:

"She's mean to everyone, Spencer. You shouldn't mind her." He turned to Sam again. "And you, demon, why did you send my mom that message?"

"_You should thank me!"_ She said, her mouth so full, she spit more chili right in his face. "You guys were so caught up in that stupid "What am I?" game, I sent your mother that message so she would show up here, screaming about how Spencer had kidnapped you and made you pose naked to some sculpture of his or something."

"Hey, that only happened once!" They both yelled in unison making Sam's eyebrows raise.

"You guys are annoying me, I'll go back to bed." She stood up. "And I'm taking my chili with me!" She said grabbing the bigger bowl and entering the elevator.

Spencer and Freddie stood there watching the elevator door close.

"Why is it that whenever I talk to Sam, I feel like I have just been brutally tortured by a medieval guard?" Freddie said to one in particular and Spencer's face curled in a smirk he had never seen before. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing, nothing. You wanna crash on the couch?" Spencer asked and Freddie nodded. "Good, have a nice nap, I'll go to my bedroom; if you need anything, just ask."

Spencer made his way to his bedroom slowly, his footsteps weighing tons. Yes, he was old and alone but he knew a thing or two about love; he had learned it from the many, many times he had been dumped.

He knew for a fact that it was not right to date your ex-girlfriend's baby sister, nor her older sister…Nor their mother for that matter. He knew you weren't supposed to wear a tux to every single date with the same girl, especially if the date consisted of cooper on the park, and he was absolutely sure that it was not smart to stuff your girlfriend's dead poodle and use it on a sculpture…Yes, Spencer knew a lot of things about how to ruin a relationship but he also knew Freddie was a smarter kid than he had ever been and that all he needed was to let go of what he believed was right and learn to think outside the box.

From his room, Spencer heard Sam's voice yell:

"This chili is not spicy enough! I'm tired of it!" followed by the sound of something crashing and something splashing and Freddie's desperate voice:

"Sam! This is one of my good shirts! Now I'll have to take a shower! Oh, man! You're so annoying!"

"Oh, and you're a ray of sunshine, aren't you?"

Spencer closed the door of his bedroom, muffling the sounds from the exterior and shook his head from side to side with a smirk on his face. _Teenagers could be so silly._

**A/N:** _I had absolutely no fun finishing this lol. I hated it so much, it was so hard and useless but I felt like adding some Spencerness to the thing. And coming up with Socko's family members was sort of hard (yet totally cool). I think this story need some angst so be prepared to get a bit of a sad story soon. I'm also considering a future one shot so, make sure you check it when it comes out, ok ;D? Please review even if you hated it but be kind, I'm only posting this 'cause it was such hard work finishing it. Thanks again for all the great feedback, love you all! Did you guys watch iPsycho? How cool was the "Lucky You" thing xD? Best iCarly special so far in my opinion!_


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